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She wouldn’t think about the manmade substances in the water that made her weak while any nutrients made her strong. It was a double edged sword. She was damned it she did, damned if she didn’t.
Closing her eyes, she slid completely under the water, focused now on shifting into her primary form. She frowned when absolutely nothing happened. She usually only had to step into the river and her scales began to form, the webbing between her fingers and toes growing without thought.
But then the river had all the nutrients her body needed, while the bathwater was questionable at best.
She pushed back sudden panic clawing at her insides and instead concentrated harder, the outside world then fading away as her one of her bones snapped and reformed, then another and another. Her muscles stretched and remodeled, and her fin pushed out from her spine while her green scales shimmered as they surged all over her body.
Joy suffused her from the inside out. She’d done it! She’d actually shifted into her Strazanian form! She didn’t bother pushing her head clear of the bathwater, not when her gills were more than capable of breathing underwater. It was pure luxury to stay wet, to stay fully submerged, as long as she didn’t dwell on the chemicals she also bathed in.
Tinkle. Splash. Trickle.
It took her a second to realize the bathwater was overflowing. She surged up and out of the water, reaching for the taps then to turn them off before she pulled the plug free, the drain gurgling as water drained away.
She bit her bottom lip as she eyed the waterlogged, tiled floor. Gray would have quite the mess to clean up. She pushed a hand to her mouth. At least it might distract him from chasing after her. With any luck she’d be miles away from—
Clank. Clank. Clank.
She inhaled sharply. No! She didn’t want Gray to come into her bedroom now. If he saw her in her primary form he’d immediately know what she was up to and her chance of escape would be null and void.
The bedroom door creaked opened before Gray entered the bedroom, his soft tread stopping in front of the locked, bathroom door. “Sienna, are you okay?”
She pushed to her feet and climbed out of the tub, not bothering to dry off. “I’m fine,” she said flatly.
He exhaled roughly. “Are you ready to talk?”
“No.”
“I don’t want you going hungry.”
She stepped closer to the door, glad her voice was still relatively the same despite her different form. She put a hand over the talk-stone in her brow, making sure he couldn’t see its bright green glow under the crack in the door. “Are you telling me you’ve found a conscience?”
“Believe it or not, I’m not a monster. I don’t want to make you suffer.”
She sighed, wishing she could believe him. But of course he’d say or do anything to make her compliant. “I don’t want to talk to you right now...maybe in the morning I might feel differently.”
His impatience emanated through the bathroom door. “I’m sorry, Sienna, I don’t have that long to wait, not anymore.”
She didn’t have time to react, but it was instinct to step aside as he kicked the door in before it slammed against the wall. It was probably just as instinctive to then jump, spin and kick as he stood gaping at her in all her Strazanian glory.
Then her foot connected to his face and she sent him flying backward. He hit her bedframe with a clank, making Bongo jerk awake on her mattress and jump to the floor. She raced out of the bathroom door and through the opened bedroom door, Bongo hot on her heels. Slamming the door shut, she threw the bolts back into place.
It was stupidly satisfying when his fists thudded against the door, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Sienna, don’t do this, I beg of you. We’re running out of time.”
“I have all the time in the world, asshole.” She glared at the door, imagining Gray on its other side. “Enjoy your vacation.”
She patted Bongo on his head then strode jauntily down the hallway and away from her prison, only vaguely aware of the closed door of another room next to her own. She passed a lounge room to her right, with its polished wooden floors and gray modular lounge. The dining room was next, with its round table and cream-cushioned chairs.
It wasn’t until she saw the interconnecting kitchen that she stepped inside it, opening the pantry then to rip open a packet of corn chips and shoveling a handful into her mouth. She continued eating them as she left the kitchen to enter the master suite.
Walking into the closet, she selected a long black T-shirt and dragged it over her head. It would have to do, at least it was long enough to cover her extremities.
Shoving some more corn chips into her mouth, she dropped some on the bedroom floor for Bongo, then tossed the packet away. Pushing open the front door at the end of the hallway, she stepped out onto the landing, with its stack of stairs that led to the ground floor.
Another chorus of bangs sounded on the door in the bedroom where she’d been held hostage, then she was running down the stairs, Bongo once again on her heels as he followed her with excited yips.
Shit.She couldn’t do much about the dog. She had to escape before Gray got out of the room and came after her again.
It wasn’t until she got to the ground and saw under the house with its concrete slab, where solar lights lit up the perimeter in a soft glow, that she spied an old fashioned pushbike with an open basket on the back. Was this Gray’s mode of transport?
