5. Cherish

My last remaining adrenalin must have exhausted itself as somehow, I fell asleep. I even dreamed. 

They were not nightmares of being kidnapped but instead peaceful dreams of ascending, like reaching the top of a wooded hill and basking in the nature around me. Very soothing and calming. Perhaps my brain is trying to soothe my fear-soaked body into believing I will be okay.

However the instant Ivan rolled over in the  bed my eyes shot open, tense, and ready, staring up at the mattress, fists clenched and ready. I am not being naïve enough to assume that just because he didn’t harm me last night he won’t pounce in the morning.

Instead I hear manly stretching, grunting noises then a rustle as a face quietly peers over the bed to see where I am. Surrounded by a dozen towels in a strange little den, just my face peering out and a mass of blonde hair. I am fully aware I look ridiculous. For once his face changes, a strange little half-smile forms and he mutters, “you look like a mouse,” as he swings his huge legs off the mattress and heads to the bathroom.

My eyes helplessly registered that his body had healed completely from last night. I found it impossible to look away, my eyes begging him to slow his walk so I could look a little closer as to where that V-line was headed. Meanwhile, my brain begged me to grab a fire poker to  defend myself.

In the end I did neither as the door knocked loudly. I scurried into the bathroom to hide, almost running into Ivan who was brushing his teeth. He lifted his arms up, grunting “woah” as I edged around the bathroom door to hide. He said nothing as he watched me scurry, instead headed over to open the door, wrapping his black and red robe around his huge body.

“Good morning sir,” a female voice called, perhaps one of the girls from last night?

“Hello Martha, can I help?”

“I’m here for your…your girl actually? I understand you took one last night. Is she fit for the bathhouse this morning?”

“Yes, she is,” then addressing the bathroom, “can you come out please?”

I peered my head around the door and saw the dark eyed, brunette woman from the previous night. The older one who had applied my make up and whispered for me to look for the Inferno. Whoever this Inferno was, he hadn’t shown up to help me, I was now helplessly trapped with Ivan. With a feral, murdering shifter.

Whilst his green eyes watched me closely, I saw Martha’s brow furrow. Crumpled messy sheets and towels everywhere, it certainly gave the impression of him having had his prize. And I was wearing his hooded sweatshirt.

Like a girlfriend.

I gasped at the realisation and immediately removed it, throwing it to the side like it was rotten and stood in the freezing negligee once more.

Slowly padding past Ivan, I caught an unusual apple scent as I came close to his body. Against every instinct I found myself inhaling, as if trying to take in some more of his smell. He was a foot taller than me as my eyes met his bare chest in the gap of his robe. As I manoeuvred to Martha’s side, I reasoned wherever she was taking me had to be better.

Unless…was I being swapped?

Taken to another shifter?

The one-eyed psychopath or the bearded, angry one? Was this bathhouse the kind where men went to be pleasured by whores? Am I one of those whores now?

I’ve heard enough rumours and stories about the wants of human men, my mind immediately assumes shifters are ten times more depraved.

The more possibilities I considered the more rapid my breathing became, my hands began trembling all over again. Martha saw my flustering panic and said soothingly, “it is a women only bathhouse at this time of day, designed to aid your recovery dear. You shall be brought back here after…if that is acceptable?”

“Yes please Martha. Please try and get her to eat and drink too if you can. I’ve got to get to a briefing.” His voice was completely different to the tough-guy “pussy mileage” thug of last night. Which one was the act though? He talked to Martha with such good manners and breeding, what is he doing in this world of death?

With a thousand other thoughts racing I jumped as I felt Martha’s hand on my bare arm. She gently guided me away from the threshold of the room and back into the grey labyrinth of corridors. Silently we weaved, heading upwards until we entered an entirely strange new alien world.

A spa. Luxurious marble tiled walls and benches, showers, individual bathing pools with scents and aromatherapy. How did this place exist in the same world as the concrete corridors? The sound of steaming, flowing waterfalls pouring and scents of jasmine was a sharp contrast to the grey squalid cell I had known..

Martha guided me towards one of the individual bathing pools, a deep tub with steam rolling off in cloudy waves. “Take off your dress dear, there is only us today so don’t be shy.”

I gratefully lowered myself into the warm water, murky with oils and balms, the scent of oranges and lime filled my head with memories from a happier time. I let out a little groan at the pleasant heat and looked up at her in complete astonishment.

She laughed and passed me various oils and sponges. “You’re not the first that’s happened to,” she chuckled with a sad look on her face, “muteness is a common response to extreme fear. But it comes back. Can you perhaps tell me your name now?”

“Cherish,” I whispered, stunned at how my tongue seemed to have just unlocked. “I’m Cherish.”

“Well then, I’m Martha,” her voice was soft and motherly, but her eyes had a hard glitter to them. Who knows why she was working here.

“Where are the other girls?” in a voice as faint as a rustling leaf.

“Not everyone is fit to be brought here yet. Some are in the recovery ward.”

My eyes widened in realisation. This isn’t a spa, it’s a fucking rehabilitation centre for the women who have been brutalised.

“Ivan is the only one with any decency left in him,” she hissed, “the rest are vile. I bet against Xavier every single time for what he does to those poor girls.”

“Why hasn’t Ivan done anything to me yet?”

She tutted, like a mother hen, “He won’t. You’re safe with him. He is just broken, he isn’t evil or sadistic, he is here for a reason only known to him.”

I nodded silently, my body soaking in every last bit of heat and comfort from the tub. “Who is the Inferno, you told me last night to seek him out, who did you mean?”

She laughed as she tipped a full jug of water over my head, drenching my blonde hair so it stuck to my scalp and back as I coughed and spluttered in shock.

“Ivan the Inferno dear, they all have stage names! I knew you wouldn’t survive with any of the others,” her eyes flitting to check we were still alone.

Bristling under the accusation that I would not survive, my voice regained its strength to declare archly, “why me over the others, why not tell them to look for him?”

She leaned in, under the guise of rubbing shampoo into the long damp blonde hair and whispered into my ear, “because you’re a human. You’ve been mixing with enough other wolves in the cells to have picked up a bit of a scent but now, you’re a sitting target.”

“What do I do then?” I whispered back, an icy chill travelling down my spine despite the heat of the tub.

“I do not know. You have a month until the next Showcase, you can come here every day, some other girls will join soon…hopefully you are safe until then.”

“And Ivan?”

“If the rest of the men suspect he is keeping you from them rather than taking pleasure from you there will be trouble,” as she doused my head in water once more, definitely taking pleasure in my spluttering shock.