be a different matter
Everyone, apart from Anton, was in the airy canteen by the time we arrived. There was a brief lull in the conversation when I walked in, some eyes reflecting approval whilst others showed distaste and even a tinge of fear. Whether that was because of the danger my actions had created, or because of the danger of me myself, I didn’t know and didn’t care to wonder. I also didn’t dare look over at the Brethren’s table to see what was in their eyes. Aiming for a nonchalant air, I tried to move towards the nearest empty chair without looking like I was in pain. It really wasn’t very easy at all and my head was woozy by the time I made it. Betsy pulled up a chair beside me and chattered away as if there was nothing remarkable at all going on. Bit by bit, everyone else returned to their lunch.
Unfortunately I realised rather belatedly that the outside catering Johannes had called had set up a buffet. Excellent. More walking. More standing. More pain. I reached down under the table and began pulling out one of the screws from the side leg. It took me some time, and poor Betsy was struggling to find enough inanities to blather about to cover me, but I eventually managed it. Palming the screw, I nodded at her and we stood up. I dug the screw sharply into the palm of my hand. The returning sharp pain was an antidote to the constant drug dulled ache from Anton’s exertions, and would keep my senses alert long enough to make it to the buffet table and back again without fainting. As I walked I pushed it in further, breaking the skin and drawing blood. When we passed the Brethren’s table I thought I saw the Lord Alpha inhale sharply, but there was no way on earth that he’d be able to smell a few drops of fresh blood right now after all the many drops that had just been spilt in the gym. Then I panicked that the lotion must have rubbed off during Tom’s medical ministrations and that I hadn’t re-applied it again properly and my humanity was starting to seep through. However I must have imagined it because he returned to his plate, with a brief flash of brilliant white teeth visible as he bit into a slice of crusty bread.
I picked up a plate and lay it down on the side so I could manage the buffet without letting go of the screw in my palm. With one hand, I randomly selected bits of food to fill it up. I desperately needed to eat but my earlier anticipation of dining on something other than Johannes’ food had gone. Now I just needed the calories. Betsy was forking spoonfuls of what looked like a creamy curry on her plate next to me when Lucy, the Brethren girl from earlier, came up.
“So, not much of a fighter, then?” She inquired archly.
I blushed, annoying myself. “Ummm…it’s complicated.”
“ I heard,” she said, with a glance over her shoulder at Tom. “He’s cute. “
I coughed slightly and continued putting food on my plate, in an awkward one-handed fashion.
“You must be hurting a bit after that, especially with not shifting. “ She peered at me from under her bangs. “It might not be such a clever idea to do that, you know. Not shift. I mean, I get the idea of honouring your guy’s death and all that, but if you’re really sore…” her voice trailed off.
She had absolutely no idea. “It’s fine,” I muttered. “I’m fine.”
“Yes, so fine that you’re putting chocolate cake on top of your shepherd’s pie.”
I looked down at my plate. Oops. “I have a varied palate,” I said shrugging, wishing she would just go away.
“Lucy,” said a deep smooth voice, “can you go and check on the status of the mage’s arrival?”
She snapped to attention and at once bobbed her head, light brown hair bouncing off her shoulders as she did so. The Lord Alpha. As if things couldn’t get any worse. Lucy marched off smartly whilst he took a grape off a nearby plate and looked at me in much the same way that a cat would like at a mouse before it pounces on it and kills it. I squared my shoulders and craned my neck slightly to look back at him. I could just barely register Betsy’s panic from over his shoulder but I kept my