Chapter VI.i

Slither loosens after the gentle voice demanded she stop breathing. It worked, Bea believes, when air stopped flowing down Slither short-circuited, kind of kicked her on the inside and hid in the corner. But Slither is in a hurry, winding up again and she can feel anger fueling it.

It’s coming back to finish the job, she whimpers and yowls when freezing stones attack her from behind. She anticipates the hurt, but it doesn’t come. Those Red Eyes are still staring, so immobile that she lost focus until they snapped blue and her shoulders are hit with burning prongs. They latch themselves onto her forearms and she’s yanked out of the realm so quickly her head spins, landing limply between strong arms.

With eyes closed time revolves much more slowly, the atmosphere weighing heavily on Bea’s body; in reality a few mere seconds pass. She is unaware of time when her mind returns to its normal state, no longer pressurized by an unnamed force, and she feels dirty. Like thick dollops of hot miasma are sitting on her chest; wrists, thighs, ankles; and they are keeping her in place.

She wants to move her body, shake off the heavy curtain, clear her head; she wants stand up, walk away from the furnace that’s embracing her and tell it to fuq off if it follows. But there’s something wrong.

She tries to move her arm again and like before it remains still as though she ran a years’ worth of triathlons in a single day, her muscles too drained to even quiver and belated response is all she can hope for. She hears submerged beats in the air above and strains to make sense of it. Where is it coming from?

Vibrations come from the furnace where her head is resting. It takes another few senses for her to realize that it’s the result of someone speaking. The beating vibrations are shouts of a loud disagreement, but the words are muffled to her submerged ears.

Body limp, she listens carefully--limp, mind you, not unconscious. (She’s not a damn mannequin that’s inferior to hominid senses)--and like lifting the veil of a bride, the world becomes clear(er).

“What did you do to her?!. . . .say something, damn it!”

That voice is deep, it rumbles low. Male. And it’s coming from directly behind her. Oh. Okay. So someone is holding her, which makes sense. Three guesses who.

“Hold your tongue!”

(Two guesses). That’s Abigail. Clearly. She’s snapping in that shrill voice of hers to Furnace-guy. Why?

Furnace-guy rumbles, “She’s cold, do you now that? Of course you wouldn’t.” I’m cold? No wonder you’re hot. “Kibum will have your head for this.” There’s that name again, who and why would he do such a thing?

This really isn’t the time to make jokes but Bea can’t help herself right now. If you can talk about someone when you think they’re not listening then an ‘unconscious’ person can certainly make fun of you in their heads.

Abigail scoffs. “Remember your duties, peasant.” Well that’s not nice. “If it wasn’t for that you wouldn’t even be alive. A dirty rat has no right touching precious blood, set her down this instant.” Okay, that’s just mean. Wait, my blood is precious?

“Dirty rat?” Um he’s angry. “And I suppose you’re any better? At least I didn’t hurt the girl!”

I’m hurt? Bea paused in her mockery. Furnace-guy says she’s hurt; was hurt; by Abigail. Well, that willingly answers ‘why’. Two guesses remain.

“Jongin. Manners.”

Oh, oh.

Now she understands--well, at least Bea knows who’s in her room now. That is, if she’s still here; there; not much time could have passed but you never know.

Furnace-guy is Kai, the guy that called him must be Taemin. Any rational girl would either be delighted in this situation or scared out of their wits; Bea is displeased. She couldn’t match his voice, didn’t even think to use scent. Idiot! But to be fair she only just met both guys a while ago and they’ve only spoken in moderate tones.

Kai doesn’t reply to the scolding, instead lifting one hand from her arm and brushing back strands of hair from her forehead. It tickles a bit, like an itch. Thank all higher power that he’s hot--temperature wise--and the feverish contrast actually clears up her thoughts a bit more.

“Get your hands off--” Abigail…

“Or what?!”

“Quiet. Both of you.” Taemin sounds like an alpha. “You, leave.”

“Monsieur, please allow me to stay.” Kai protesting sounds like something natural, yet unnatural. His muscles tense, something that wouldn’t happen if he were expecting permission. That being thought of, Bea already dislikes his and Taemin’s relationship. Abigail isn’t being very nice to her new friend either.

“You ask too much for someone so innocent. Understand this Jongin: just being here is suspicious, coming to her aid before I is unheard of. You are not a Guardian, you are a Feeder; never will you rank higher than that. Leave now before someone notices you absence. ”

“I…as you wish.” No…please stay furnace.

Gravity dances in her tummy, his warm hands traveling underneath her knees to easily--surprisingly--lift her into the air for a moment and situate her flat on the bed.

All the while the room is silent and the second Kai’s fingertips leave her body she misses them immediately, shivering in their wake. It would be greatly convenient if she understood what’s going on, that way she could open her eyes and demand them to leave Kai alone. (And maybe ask him to hold her again because, What the heck, why am I so damn cold?).

“And Jongin,”

“Yes.”

“If I hear you step out of bounds again, well, you know.”

No one speaks until the door clicks into place and when Abigail finally cuts the silence it’s as if she’s answering a question, “No one saw me, I’m sure of it. The halls are almost empty, I didn’t go back downstairs but the service corridors are bare like you said and I didn’t see that, that feeder, anywhere near here.”

“Curious. He knew something was wrong. He ran into me on my way out.” Bea imagines Taemin holding his chin.

“Weird. Anyway, it was exactly the same as with Kibum--She just froze. I didn’t even touch her mind.” Abigail rambles. “He’s going to punish me. For not telling him about this. What do you think he’ll do? Chop my head off like that kid said?”

“He will do nothing of the sort.”

“But he said--”

“Need I remind you Kibum holds no real authority over you?”

“It’s just, argh. I’m so curious, I couldn’t help myself. Sorry. Should I wake him?” Abigail ended with a miserably reluctant groan.

Eavesdropping only gets you so far and playing mannequin isn’t going to get Bea any closer to going home--whether her aunt and personal pain-in-the-, SGT. Walker, want it or not. And when she does, she’s going to raise hell on Walker’s turf, just to spite him, for duping Karen into sending her here.

Now Abigail and Taemin are talking about someone unheard of and as far as she can tell, whatever this Kibum person has over Abigail is more interesting than her current situation. Bea, not at all pleased, fakes a groan, throat and mouth catching a rough note.

The two respond instantly, pressure appearing half a second later against her arm as a telltale that whoever it may be is bending over the side of the bed.

“Bomi, can you hear me?” Ah, so it’s you. Taemin sounding so much more humane without Kai in the same room. It bothers her.

“Yes,” she grunts in a voice not unlike her own. It’s the dryness of one little word and it itches something fierce. She wants to scratch at the raspy old toad, maybe drown it with a cool glass of water, then let it croak in a tin canister without air holes.

And there she goes in attempt to crush the unwanted amphibian; brain cells signal ‘OK’ to the muscles needed to move her arm, a tingle already tickling her fingertips and when she concludes to do so the sensation of anticipation burns. Tight flames up her arm, subsiding as quickly as they came, a whitehot trail pulsing up the base of her neck, and a choked gasp escaping her t