The Tiny Curse (Werewolf High Book 2) (13 page)

He snatched me up with a triumphant snort, squeezing so hard I thought my eyes would pop out.

"Careful," I told him. "I have a very tiny bladder."

"Shut up," he said. "I've had enough of your talking. If I hear another word out of you I will rip your tongue out."

He didn't seem to be kidding, so I didn't say anything as he stuffed me into his pocket.

This was bad. This was really bad. The worst, even. The actual worst. Astor had made it clear that he didn't want anything from the Golden, and if he wanted me dead, I would already be dead. That didn't leave a lot of options and none of them were good.

Astor's pocket had a funny smell, strong and sharp like burning rubber. It was a far cry from the soft warmth of Tennyson Wilde's pocket, that was for sure. I started to feel motion sick with the smell and the jiggling around. The Green House wasn't terribly far from the bamboo forest but of the three houses it was the farthest, and by the time we got there and the jiggling stopped, I felt super gross.

If I'd been hoping for some sort of explanation when we got back, an evil villain monologue that provided the solution to all my problems, I was in for disappointment. Astor said nothing, just pulled me from his pocket, shoved me into a box. Then, before I had a chance to even look around, he shut the lid up tight. I was left alone in the darkness. I still really needed to pee.

In some ways, it was better than I expected. I'd seen pictures of lab experiments on animals, horrific stuff, and I'd been thinking along those lines. That'd he'd pin me to a board by my hands and feet and do awful stuff to me until I died. Force me to inhale chemicals and drink poison and then just watch me and laugh as my insides turned out. Being stuck in a box wasn't painful. It wasn't scary. It was a different kind of awful than that. I couldn't tell the passage of time, for one thing. I could judge a bit on account of the need to pee getting more urgent, but it might have been minutes, maybe hours, I had no way to tell. I didn't know if he'd ever let me out of there or just leave me to starve and die.

I couldn't hear anything beyond the box, had no way of knowing where the box was placed in the room or if Astor was still there. It was getting hard to think of anything besides wanting to pee. No way was I peeing in that box, being shut in there with the pee smell, so that Astor could find me all urine-ified, and laugh and call me some pee-related nickname for the rest of my high school career. I needed to get out of the box and find somewhere dignified to relieve myself. And then maybe escape. Mostly pee though, to be honest.

I thought about making a lot of noise. Maybe Astor had a roommate and they could find me and let me out. I quickly ruled that idea out though. Whoever Astor roomed with would no doubt be a similar shade of buttface in the whole buttface spectrum and I couldn't rely on them for any sort of help. No reason to give Astor an ally in his torturing of me. I was worried that the box might be perched precariously on the edge of something and any sort of commotion would lead to a plummet to my death, but in the darkness I had no way to tell how deep the box was to climb out of. I tried jumping as high as I could and I couldn't reach the top, so it wasn't an option anyway. It seemed to be a fairly sturdy cardboard box — stronger than a shoebox but not as big. There was no way I could come up with some elaborate escape plan when the need to pee had driven everything else from my mind, so with no other options, I ran as fast as I could and threw my full weight at the side of the box, hoping to tip it over or break through it. In the dark, I couldn't actually tell where the side of the box was, so I ran with my arms out in front of me and just hoped for the best. My first attempt knocked it, but it didn't tip. I tried again back the other direction and the same thing happened. The run up wasn't helping, it was just tiring me out. I tried kicking it in like a door but the cardboard was too thick to hit through, though that seemed to shake the box up as much as running at it. I jumped at the wall with my shoulder, propelling myself at it with all the force I could muster up, and finally, the box tipped over.

I cautiously walked along the wall, which was now the bottom of the box, worried that each step might overbalance the box from whatever it was sitting on, maybe a table or a dresser? It had definitely been on something, because Astor hadn't had to bend down to the floor to put me in the box. I was still walking blind, but if I was careful about it, I could throw myself backwards if I felt the box starting to fall.

I didn't fall. When I hit the lid of the box, I pushed at it until it cracked open and I could crawl out. The room was dark but enough moonlight fell through the window that I could make out that I was on a messy desk. There were empty food containers that had been there so long they'd started up their own eco systems, some crumpled up tissues, a bunch of empty soda cans… soda cans, that was just the thing I needed. I hoisted myself up onto one of the cans to relieve myself.

It wasn't until I finished and climbed back down that I noticed the pair of big, golden eyes staring at me. My heart leapt — first with hope because I'd obviously been conditioned by werewolves, but then with fear because this wasn't a werewolf, this was a big floppy eared hound dog. And sure, hound dogs were cute and sweet but they were also bred to hunt little things like me, and they didn't mess around about it.

"Hey cute doggy," I said to it. "What's up with you? Me? I'm just here hanging out in this box." The box I was edging back toward before Snoopy here could get any bright ideas. "Just hanging out like a human who you should definitely not eat."

The dog's tongue lolled out the side of its mouth as it stared up at me. It seemed kind of familiar.

"You live here with that jerk, Astor?" I asked it. "Is he as much of a jerk to dogs as he is to humans."

The dog sniffed up at the air and then circled around a few times before settling in, curled up in a ball with its feet tucked up under its chin. Probably thought I didn't seem delicious. That was fine by me, but I still needed to figure out a way down from the desk and out of the room. I had no clue where Astor was or when he'd be back. My best guess was that he was contacting his boss, and normally I'd be all set to spy on him about it, but right then I just wanted to be back safe in the Golden House. I could see no way down from the desk that wouldn't end in broken bones but what I did see was Astor's desktop computer. I used all my forced to click the mouse and wake it up. If I could send off a message to Sam to say where I was, then if my escape attempts failed, at least someone would know where I was. The mouse was heavy and hard to maneuver but finally I dragged the cursor over to the school app and opened it up. I sighed as I waited for it to load, tapping my fingernails against the plastic of the mouse. It was so slow. Astor would be back before it loaded. Astor would be back and have tortured me to death and then repopulated the planet with mini Astor polo kids before it loaded, that was how slow it was.

I got up the messaging system and noticed that Tennyson Wilde was at the top of the list from when Astor had contacted him earlier with the video, so I clicked on him, because it would probably take another ten hours to find Sam if I did a search. Then I ran over the the keyboard and started to type.
"helplu"
I got out before I heard the door open. As fast as I could, I ran for the enter button and dove for it, banging my fist down on it to be sure the message sent.

The light flicked on and I stayed totally still, my face squished down somewhere between the "P" and "[" keys and my arms sprawled out on either side, not wanting to look up and face the inevitable.

"Get out of the way, dumb dog," Astor grumbled. There was a thumping noise, and I heard the dog yelp.

I wanted to get up and stab Astor in the eye for hurting the dog but I also didn't want to make him aware that I'd escaped the box. As few things clattered around and I squeezed my eyes shut tight. It was the most pointless form of denial but I couldn't help but hope when I opened them again, everything would be okay somehow.

It was easy to tell when he noticed me, because he stopped clomping around and everything went quiet. Then the world swirled around in a rush of color and movement as Astor picked me up by the leg, dangling me in front of his face.

"What are you doing?"

I didn't answer him so he shook me.

"I was going to leave it until tomorrow to teach you a lesson but if you can't wait, I guess I'll start now."

He took something out of his pocket with his free hand, and there was a flicking sort of sound. After I moment, it became horribly apparent what the sound was. A lighter. He held me above the flame for a moment, still dangling me by the leg, then lowered me down closer to the heat, laughing. The more I squirmed to get away, the more he laughed. My hair hung down, and there was a sizzling smell as it burned, and the air filled with the stench of it. He moved the flame up, closer to my body. I twisted around, trying to lift myself high enough to get a hold on his hand, to bite his fingers off so that he'd let me go, but he just thought it was funny.

Eventually he got bored. He tossed me onto the bed and I went rolling across it. As soon as he turned away, I tried to flee, using the unmade quilt to climb down. I could see the dog hiding underneath, quivering, and it made me wish I was big again so I could punch Astor really hard in the face. If I somehow managed to escape, I would definitely be back to liberate that dog and serve up some cold justice to Astor.

He was standing at the computer, typing something, so I ran as fast as I could toward the door. It seemed like a bad dream, running and running but never getting any closer to my goal. Astor laughed and plucked me up, holding me by the arms between pinched fingers. He pulled my arms out to the sides, stretching them as far as they'd go until I thought he'd rip them off.

"This is going to be more fun than I thought," he said, then dangled me in front of the computer. Under where I'd so arduously typed my message to Tennyson Wilde, Astor had sent another message. "Sorry, typo. I meant hello."

My heart sank and my arm felt as though it was going to tear away from the rest of me. Things were definitely looking grim. That was definitely believable enough for Tennyson Wilde to pass off as nothing unusual, definitely not as a cry for help. I was so mad at myself for not telling anyone where I was going or at least leaving a note or something. If I'd been watching myself in a movie or something I'd be screaming at the screen about what a dumbass I was being. Though, in my defense, I had been expecting to be captured and my main goal was to fix the whole mess with the werewolf video, which I'd accomplished nicely. Good work, me. If it saved the others, then anything Astor did to me was worth it, death or torture or whatever. Though, if I could get out of it, that would be better.

But as Astor placed me up on the highest shelf in the room and then wandered off, humming, I thought maybe getting out of it would be harder than I thought.

The good thing about being stuck up on the shelf was that I could see the entire room clearly, and gather information with which to hatch a daring escape plan. The bad thing was I was up very, very high, with no apparent way to get down that didn't involve cracking open my skull.

Astor wandered off toward the bathroom, and without his attention on me, I took some time to see what was at hand that might be useful. There was a dead cactus in a pot at the end of the shelf closest to the window, at the other end was a pile of books that we'd had to read for class, which looked as if they'd never been opened. There was a bowl of moldy cornflakes and some coins but nothing else except what would've equated to a 100 foot drop over the side. I wasn't especially afraid of heights, but my head swam when I looked over the side and I edged back behind the books so that I had a bit of a barrier between myself and the fall.

All in all, there was very little for me to work with. If the windows had been open, at least, I could've somehow climbed over to it and out to freedom, but they were firmly closed. Nothing on the shelf could be fashioned into something to use as a rope to climb down. I had no choice but to bide my time and wait for an opportunity, because no way was I going to give up and submit to being Astor's plaything.

He sure was taking his time in the bathroom, which I didn't want to think too hard about. If I knew how much time I had before he got back, I could work on a more elaborate plan. I could rip up pages from the books into strips and use them as a rope. Just one strip wouldn't hold me, but if I somehow braided several strips together, they'd be stronger. As soon as the idea came to me, I knew it was my best chance to escape and I got to it right away. I'd made really good headway when someone started pounding on the door. I hastily tucked my work into the cover of the book and ducked down out of sight.

The pounding got louder and more urgent but Astor took his sweet time in coming out of the bathroom. Finally, he emerged, dragging his feet over to the door, even though it sounded as if whoever was on the other side was about to smash it open.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, looking through the peep hole. He sighed and opened the door a crack. "What do you want?"

"Where is she?" said Llewellyn, and it suddenly clicked why the dog had seemed familiar. "Bonkers. I know you have her. Just give her back. I'll do anything you want."

He sounded so forlorn, so lost, that my heart twisted in my chest.

Astor slammed the door in his face. Bonkers had poked her nose out from under the bed hopefully at the sound of her human's voice, and I could hear the soft thump of her tail wagging, but when the door closed, her head drooped again and she backed under the bed again.

Before Astor could make it back to the bathroom, the pounding on the door started up again. He grumbled under his breath and swung the door open, but it wasn't Llewellyn this time.

"Where is she?" Tennyson Wilde said, bursting into the room and looking around.

"Here!" I yelled, jumping to my feet and waving around.

Bonkers's nose emerged again, sniffing cautiously, but Tennyson didn't even look in my direction. That made no sense, he should definitely have been able to hear me. Astor smirked up at me and I realized that he'd done something, some sort of magic or werewolf-proofing or something so that Tennyson couldn't notice me. Man, who knew that Astor of all people could be so wily. I had vastly underestimated him. But he'd obviously underestimated me too if he thought he could keep me quiet so easily.

I edged my way over to the dead cactus. It was big and heavy but I had to distract Tennyson from his argument with Astor, he was getting super worked up and I knew better than anyone that once he got going, he never let up on something. I whispered an apology to the cactus, then with all my weight, I shoved it off the shelf.

It smashed loudly, sending shards of pottery everywhere. I hoped Bonkers had managed to avoid any debris, but was pretty sure she had honed her danger-avoiding skills enough to keep safe. Tennyson Wilde looked over and I jumped up and down to get his attention. When he spotted me, a funny look passed over his face. I could've sworn it was relief.

"Why are you dilly-dallying about, you jerk," I yelled. "Hurry up and get me out of here!"

He pushed Astor out of the way and took a step forward, toward me, but then stopped abruptly.

"What are you doing? Come on, this is no time for jokes!"

He looked down at his feet with dawning horror. A sparkly line of something ran across the polished floorboards.

"That's right, bitches," said Astor. "Silver." He pushed past Tennyson to step in front of him. "Can't cross it, can you, you freaky, unnatural beast."

Tennyson glared at Astor, ignoring me. I knew that, among other things, silver obscured his cognitive function, confused him, but I wasn't sure if that was why his attention was wandering or if he was just bothered by what Astor said.

"Don't listen to him," I said, pushing the moldy cereal off the shelf. "That thing about silver is just a folktale, it's all in your head." I had no idea if that was true but it sounded legit. "Don't let Astor beat you, you ninny. Just rip his face off!"

Astor laughed, a grating, ugly laugh. "Oh but he can't. Didn't you know?"

Tennyson's eyes went huge and all the color drained from his face.

"Oh, was it supposed to be a secret? But it's not. Not to the people who matter."

I had no idea what Astor was talking about. I'd never seen Tennyson Wilde change before, that was true, but that didn't mean he
couldn't
. The idea of Tennyson Wilde being unable to do anything he chose to seemed preposterous. But the look on his face said otherwise.

Astor laughed again. "The big bad wolf doesn't have any teeth."

"Shut up, Astor," I said. "Tennyson Wilde doesn't need to be a wolf to lay the smackdown on you so put a sock in it. Literally nobody cares what you think anyway."

He spun around to face me. "But they should!" he yelled. "I should be number one! The king of this school! Captain of the polo team, the one everyone looks to. But
they
just swoop in and take everything that's rightfully mine!"

I rolled my eyes. Entitled white boys, is there anything more pathetic on this planet?

"And you!" Astor said, swooping down to pick me up. "You're even worse. No money, no family, nothing. You come out of nowhere and act like you're so much better than me?"

He squeezed me in his fist so tight I thought my head would explode.

"You're not better than me!" he roared in my face.

I was fairly sure the fact that I'd never cursed anyone with a potentially fatal curse, or kidnapped anyone, or kicked a dog, were all prime examples of why I was in fact better than Astor, but I couldn't tell him so while my entire body was being crushed.

Tennyson Wilde roared, his eyes glowing as he tried to break past the line of silver. I'd never seen him look so wolfy before and thought vaguely that it really suited him. The silver thing was obviously a physical barrier, not a mental one, because he looked to be trying very hard to break through it, and I knew that he was headstrong enough that he would if it was just a matter of will.

Astor moved around the room. I wasn't sure what he was doing, although I was right there in his hand. The whole room was starting to get hazy as I struggled to breathe, fought against the pressure squeezing the life out of me.

"You want your stupid little girlfriend?" he yelled at Tennyson. "Come and get her."

He dropped me inside a glass box — a mason jar, I realized as he flipped the lid closed. For a moment, my entire body cried out in relief that he'd let me go, but not for long. The jar was sealed tight. Airtight. I couldn't breathe.

I watched Tennyson Wilde continue to struggle as I fell to my knees, banging on the side of the jar in the hopes of making a crack, just the smallest crack to let some air in. The glass fogged up quickly and I lost sight of the outside world. The last thing I saw was Tennyson Wilde's face, contorted in anger.