Forsaken An American Sasquatch Tale - By Christine Conder Page 0,49

things on the bench, and then turned around. Letting go of Sage’s elbow, he put a hand on her chest, holding her up against the bench. “Stay here.”

Sage complied.

He walked to Liberty, hand slightly ahead of him and her eyes grew wide. A knife. Not just any knife, but a big one with a curved tip and serrated edge. A hunter’s knife. Like the one Nathaniel had. He bent over her, she pressed back as far as she could. He put the knife in his mouth, freeing up his hands.

“What are you doing?” Sage asked from her spot near the bench.

He put his hands over both of Liberty’s bound wrists, and jerked the entire chair back toward the bench. With every tug she grunted in pain. Russ smirked around the blade in his mouth. The motor from the garage sounded, and the four-wheeler started.

“God, Russ.” For the first time, Sage’s voice raised higher in a growing panic. “Did you hear me? What are you doing?”

He stopped a foot from the bench, removed the knife and turned to Sage. “Seems she’s rubbed somebody’s fur the wrong way back at the palace.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t know? She doesn’t look familiar to you?”

“I don’t know this woman.”

“Seems hard to believe. Seeing as how I have some info that says different.”

Sage looked at him, face blank. She nearly had Liberty convinced. Why not Russ?

“Tell me, Sage,” he said as he used the tip of the knife to flip the ends their hair, first Sage, then Liberty. “How many people do you know named Liberty, who have a daughter named Sage? Hmm?”

“How should I know? My mother’s name was Jill.”

“Sure it was.”

“I think I should know. You don’t know me.”

“No?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Obviously not if you think she and I are related.” Her eyes flashed and she raised her voice, smacking her hand on the workbench. “And I don’t appreciate you thinking you can accuse me, keep me here like I’m a damn prisoner.”

“Hmm.” He hadn’t moved a muscle, held the knife at arm’s length toward Liberty. He studied Sage for a moment, finally spoke. “If that’s the case…” He turned the knife around and held it out to her. “Cut her.”

“What?” Sage snapped her head back. “Are you out of your mind? I’m not cutting some woman. What kind of business are you running here?”

He reached out and latched onto her wrist, eliciting a short cry.

“Shut your mouth.” He jerked her to his chest. “Shut your lying trap and take this. Prove it to me and I’ll believe you.” He grunted as he tried to force the handle into her fist.

“Ow! You’re hurting me.” Sage yanked her arm free. It flung back, hitting the metal light bar above them. The light started to swing and Liberty grunted behind the gag. Tried to draw attention to herself so Russ would leave Sage alone.

Russ’ and Sage’s auras merged, his appearing to poison Sage’s, muddy brown and black daggers perforating her pearly overlay. Liberty grunted with more force, desperate to get him to stop.

He reached out and backhanded Liberty, but she began to scream, curled her toes, rocked the chair.

“Look,” Russ’ lip curled, “you’re upsetting her.”

“Dammit, fine. Just knock it off. I didn’t even know these… things,” she flicked her wrist toward Liberty, “really existed until a few days ago, so whatever.” She grabbed at the knife. “Give it to me.”

Russ straightened up his shoulders, ran a hand through his sweaty hair. “Good. Glad to hear it.” He released the knife.

“And just so you know,” Sage said, her head cocked, “my mother, Jill, was a hippie. Duh. Lots of kids are named after plants.”

“Right.” He motioned to Liberty. “Go on. Do it.”

“Where?”

Liberty tensed. She’d watched the exchange and searched for a clue that Sage was acting, but didn’t see any sign. Could she have developed some kind of amnesia and really didn’t remember her? She saw the silver amulet, Ellie’s band, peek out from Sage’s cuff and focused on it. Sage was good. She had to be.

Russ shrugged, exasperated. “Client didn’t say she had to come back in one piece, so…” He gestured to Liberty’s legs, then face, arms. “Wherever.”

Sage took a step forward, held the knife in both hands and brought it up over her head with the blade pointed down. She paused. Liberty pleaded with her eyes.

Russ said, “What’re you waiting for?”

Sage exhaled hard, brought her arms down slowly. “Can’t you cover up her face or something? She’s giving me