Rag & Bones: Trapped & Concealed Box Set

TRAPPED

Chapter 1

YOU HAVE to help me. Please.

The woman thumping her fist on the window had long, auburn hair, plastered against her skin by the pounding rain, and her gingerbread eyes were filled with fear, but she was still one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen. He might even have said that, on physical appearance alone, she was his ideal woman. No mascara making a Goth-like trail down her cheek. No blood red lips. He much preferred natural beauty. Not that the simple fact of her good looks meant he was going to help her out of whatever predicament she'd found herself in. He was much savvier than that. She was going to have to provide him with more than a simple plea for help for him to even consider getting involved. Midbury wasn't a place where you took on trust that someone was in danger just because they said so. He'd been caught out by that little ruse before.

Rag opened the window a couple of inches. Enough to talk, but not enough to be grabbed by the throat. Her fingers clutched onto the edge of the glass. He could see her knuckles shining white against the black beyond. He could hear the panic in her breathing. Drops of water dripped from the tips of her shaking fingers onto his black, leather jacket. He flicked them away, irritated, but said nothing. He waited.

They're trying to kill me.

Her voice had a West Country lilt. A local, at least, but he still needed proof of this so-called danger if he was going to dirty his boots and take on a fist fight – or any kind of fight for that matter. He strained to see what she was so afraid of, but he couldn't make out anything beyond a few feet away in the heavy downpour and he wasn't going to step outside unless he had to. He did have an image to maintain.

Who's trying to kill you, exactly?

There was no answer from her lips, apart from a scream loud enough to wake even the heaviest sleeper.

He saw the hands grab her wrists from behind and drag her away from the car. He couldn't see what, or who, it was and he still wasn't sure he wanted to get involved, even though the scream of a woman in distress had always been a potent motivator for him. The sight, a few seconds later, of inch-long fangs glinting in the street lights was an even stronger one and all he needed to push him into action. He clicked off the locks and stepped out of the car.

There were three of them – the one holding the beautiful and mysterious, screaming woman and two less confident looking specimens a few feet behind. He observed them closely. If his own keen senses weren't playing tricks on him, and they rarely did, this lot were new to the game. All very young – sixteen, or maybe a year either side. Too young to sensibly cope with what their bodies, and their minds, were going through. They were at that first joyous, and at the same time terrifying, stage where they were testing themselves and seeing just how bad they could be. Everyone went through it. He most certainly had made the most of it. Some coped better than others. Every step was an adventure to be had and every solitary mortal walking home late at night, a potential victim. He remembered it well. He could almost smell the delicious moment of pure fear at that first ritualistic kill, his own fear, not the victim's, and feel the tang of the first drop of warm, fresh blood as it tingled against his taste buds. He tried to forget the first pangs of regret at taking someone's life.

Those never did anyone any good.

Rag stepped towards the fledgling creatures. He called them creatures, because he hated the V word. The V word wasn't him. The V word was a stereotype as ridiculous as anything in a TV drama. He wasn't a stereotype and he had no desire to conform. He was his own creature. Creatures had personalities of their own. They had wishes and desires. They had hates and their very own brand of depression. They even had their favourite food. You could no more treat them all in the same way as you could different breeds of dog. Okay, yes, he had film hero good looks, he couldn't go out in sunlight, garlic was like the worst hangover ever and he had the running speed of a bullet, but he was no stereotype.

He glanced back at the car. Bones had his large, black nose pressed up against the window, drawing random patterns in the steam from his breath. He could stay there for now.

The lads didn't seem to be the most communicative of creatures. He was going to have to make the first attempt at a dialogue. He didn't want to have to kill them. He would give them a chance.

Now, guys, I don't want to alarm you too much, but you've got a problem here. And, I'm afraid, it's a serious problem. You see, you can't just go up to a woman like that and grab her. It really isn't the done thing.

The creature holding the woman looked back at his companions. The smirk on his face was full of youthful bravado. It was the kind of bravado that came from not knowing who you were dealing with. I just did, he said. Then, predictably, he bared his teeth in an act of intimidation.

Rag didn't budge. He studied the face before him. This creature's newly enhanced features had not been kind to his general appearance – the facial distortion had given his mouth a grotesque, clown-like upturn. It was a sad fact that not everyone had enough room in their mouth for an extra set of rather large fangs, even his had played havoc with his wisdom teeth.

Yeah. Okay. Technically, you did, but guys, I have to tell you that it's not a professional approach, especially in a place like this. You see, we've got rules around here. You do know where you are? Don't you?

Some sleepy village in the middle of nowhere.

Sleepy village? For a start, Midbury is a town. Did you get that? T-O-W-N. And secondly, it most certainly isn't sleepy. Look at me. It's gone midnight and I'm still up.

They all laughed at that. It seemed to Rag that they thought he was joking. This was further underlined by the next gem that came from the gang leader's mouth.

We don't go by no rules.

Rag tipped his head back. He resisted the urge to correct the lad on his appalling grammar error and decided only to apprise him of the facts of his precarious situation. Now that is funny, he casually stretched out his arms, Yeah. Funny. He stepped forward, a little more menacingly this time. The tone of his voice deepened. His eyes locked with his opponent. You really don't know where you are, do you?

One of the guys at the back stepped up to take a turn, breaking the spell of Rag's gaze with the ringleader. He wasn't sure why this one had suddenly gained so much confidence, given his previous reluctance to step up to the plate, but he let him have his say.

No, we don't know where we's at. We been running for hours. We was hungry, that's all.

Hungry. Hmm. Yeah, well, you see, I've got a problem with that, because you might well be hungry, but I don't think she's willing to let you feed. He looked at the woman. Are you willing? She shook her head as best she could with an arm gripped tightly around her neck. Didn't think so. And if she's not willing, that makes me a little mad, and when I get mad … 

It was the right moment.

Rag's usually soft, grey eyes flashed jet black and he broke a smile to reveal his own fangs. Before the ringleader could blink, Rag was in his face, eyeball to eyeball.

It was surprising how little it took. For a few moments the young creatures were like rabbits in the headlights and then they found their feet and tried to run, stumbling over kerbs and uneven paving slabs along their way. They clearly hadn't got the hang of their ridiculously fast reactions yet, if they even knew about them. The woman, freed, collapsed down onto the ground. Rag knelt down beside her.

Are you okay? Her nod was weak and her breath short, but it was enough for him to know he could leave her for a minute or two to sort things out properly.

He could've let her assailants disappear into the dark, but then they would've only have taken someone else. Maybe not that night, but the next. Or the one after that. It was better that they didn't live. Kinder on everyone. He opened the car door and a streak of black joined him in the chase.

ARE YOU quite sure you're okay? said Rag. He crouched in front of the woman as she sat sobbing on the back seat of his car, her legs dangling out the side as if she needed to keep some route of escape open.

You're … you're one of them. She avoided his eyes, but he'd already seen that hers were red-raw and her hands were shaking more than when he'd first seen her, some twenty minutes earlier.

Yes, I am.

He'd, stupidly it seemed, assumed she knew who he was and that was why she'd run to him in the first place. It was incomprehensible to him that she might have asked a mortal for help given the situation she'd found herself in, but then, maybe she didn't know exactly what she'd been dealing with. There were some people in those parts who'd never come across a creature. That was why he'd moved out of the city, so that he wasn't tripping over his own kind every night. Now, more and more were opting to downsize their nutritional needs and choose a rural life.

I thought you came to me because you knew.

Because I knew? Are you serious? No. I would've run the other way if I'd known. She wiped the back of her hand across her eyes.

Maybe it's just as well you did come to me, because, you know, you might not be here if you hadn't. Her expression didn't change. Look, my name's Rag. I know it's a strange name, but go with it. I live here, in Midbury, and I'm not the same as those guys who attacked you, whatever you might think.

Her face took on a look that could only be described as 'What kind of crap was it that just came out of your mouth?' Then, she let rip.

Oh no, of course you're not. That's why you severed their heads and staked them with that pointed stick you just happened to have beneath your jacket, because you're not the same as them. You're so much better. I can almost see the glow of your angel-like halo, even in the rain. I feel so safe now.

She had a point.

It took a while before you came to understand any particular creature's moral compass and no one's direction was quite the same as another's. Take him, for example. His good and bad sides waxed and waned like the moon, except not as frequently, thank goodness. He was currently on a good phase, one where he didn't feed by killing. That was probably only because of Ellie. He was glad they'd decided to stay together. She had a calming influence on him and, maybe, she was the answer to this problem.

He took out his phone and dialled.

Ellie, I need some help with something and you're so much better at explaining all this stuff than me.

THEY SAT in the lounge of the old bakery, a beautiful room with strange little alcoves that had once been ovens, and an overriding feeling of comfort and safety in every brick. The house was located on the outskirts of town. At one time it had been at the hub of a thriving village, but all the modern development, which had built the single street up into a town, had distorted the balance of the place away from its roots. They could almost be described as living in the countryside and that was how Rag liked it. Not much passing traffic and few visitors. Ellie's home was the perfect place to live without drawing attention to yourself.

The woman's name was Adana. They'd established that much, and that she'd lost her memory from the time before the attack. Hers was an unusual name, much like his own. He guessed her age was somewhere around twenty. Not much different from the age when his body clock had been set in stone.

According to her account of the events leading up to their meeting, the three newly-qualified creatures had bundled her into a car, tied her up, blindfolded her and driven for many miles, or at least, many hours, before they tried to feast upon her.

That was the point at which he started to get suspicious.

Rag thought back to when he first went on the rampage. He would never have waited for his feed once he'd tagged his victim. The urge would have been too great. That primal instinct of a newborn creature was hard to quash. It didn't ring true, but he kept his mouth shut. The story continued that somehow she'd managed to get free when they stopped the car and she'd run for her life. If that were the case, then what had become of the blindfold and the ties around her wrists, and possibly her legs? The holes in her story were turning into chasms big enough to bury herself and a few thousand others. And then, apparently, she'd happened upon Rag sitting in the car. It was the only verifiable part of the whole tale, although, taking the story as a whole, the likelihood that she'd randomly chanced upon him didn't quite sit right.

He rested his hand on the dog's neck. Bones looked up at him and shook his head. Even though they were in agreement, Rag decided to play along. He wanted to see where this was leading.

We'll have to find that car and get rid of it. We can't have the police finding it and going on a search for the victim, he said.

It was the sensible thing to do, but it was a lot of effort. He might not have bothered, except for the chance that it might reveal some clues about Adana's real identity. If she really had lost her memory, it might jog something, if she hadn't it might hint as to her real agenda.

No, we can't, you're right, but she can take us there tomorrow, said Ellie, I think she needs to sleep now. She's had a tough day.

Dammit. It was going to end up being a family outing if he wasn't careful.

Ellie had already spent hours, or what seemed like hours, explaining to Adana how not all creatures were evil beasts on a killing spree. She'd extolled the virtues, such as they were, of Rag, but she'd left out one important fact about their household. He wasn't sure why, but he trusted her judgement.

She's not ready to know that. Not yet, she admitted later. I mean, it is a bit out there, isn't it?

Rag was glad. To be honest, their whole life was a bit out there, but they needed to keep some secrets too. It would give them the element of surprise, if it were needed at some point, but there was something else he needed to know. There had been implications in what Ellie had said. Does that mean she's staying?

He tried not to sound too annoyed by it, but he wasn't that good at hiding meanings.

Well, what do you suggest? She's traumatised. She can't remember where she came from.

Wouldn't she be better off with the police? They can search their records for missing people. He almost couldn't believe he'd said that. He was the last one to want police officers sniffing around the place, but he was so unsettled by her story, he'd rather have been rid of her.

Oh, and what's she going to tell them? That she was kidnapped by a gang of vam … creatures? They'll lock her up and throw away the key.

It would be even worse if they did believe her.

Do you believe her story? He did trust Ellie's judgement, he really did, but he wanted to be sure she'd considered the possibility that the woman might be lying. It was always useful to plant seeds.

What? You think she's lying to us? No. She's just a young woman who was caught up in things she didn't understand. Ring any bells?

Oh, now come on, that's not the same. You didn't lose your memory.

No, I just lost my heart. He could see the tear forming before it fell. He ran his finger across Ellie's cheek to catch it. Her skin still felt soft, but the lines around her eyes couldn't deny the years since they'd first met. Anyway, it's called post traumatic stress. It's like what happens to soldiers when they've been in battle, or people who've experienced a very bad car accident. She can't help it. People lose their memories all the time. It'll probably come back to her once she's calmed down and got over the horror of it all. That may take a while and you two probably need to stay out of her way so that she can adjust. Don't crowd her. She'll get used to seeing you around and, gradually, she'll realise that you're not about to attack her every time she turns her back.

Rag stretched his neck back and closed his eyes as he let himself accept that there was nothing he could do about the situation. Ellie would have her way. Ellie always had her way. He would pick up the pieces, if necessary.

Okay, we can do that.

By the time they settled for the night it was nearly dawn. Rag lay on his bed and waited for sleep to come. It was no use. He couldn't shake it. He still had the feeling that something wasn't right, but he couldn't put his finger on what.

Chapter 2

THE NEW day was one of those that could make anyone feel good. The sun was shining bright and the fresh spring air smelled sweet and enticing, even to someone who couldn't get out there and enjoy it. It was full of promise and Rag could imagine walking hand-in-hand with Ellie across the lawns and sitting under the dappled shade of the trees with a picnic basket and a bottle of chilled wine. Not that it was likely to happen, except in his dreams.

For a few seconds, he let the tip of his finger bathe in the sun's rays that were streaming through the bedroom window. He watched as wisps of smoke began to curl upwards. It smelled like the cooked bacon he always had for Sunday breakfast. He could almost taste the juices in his mouth. Sometimes, he felt the urge to let the rays singe other parts of his body to see if they had a different aroma – a nice fillet steak or a leg of lamb – but he'd never had the courage to try. If he lost a finger to a whim, he could live with it. If he lost a chunk of his torso, he was in trouble. The smell reminded him that he needed to fill his stomach with food, so that he didn't get the urge to feed on anything else.

When he finally made his way downstairs, much to his surprise, Adana was looking much brighter than she had been the night before. For a start, she seemed to have lost all her fear and her animosity towards him and she greeted him with an overly enthusiastic, 'Hiya.' He found it perplexing. He mumbled a 'Morning' that he mingled with a yawn. He heard Ellie tut, but he didn't look round.

Bones was already making light work of a piece of raw steak. It was dripping with liquid iron as he ripped at it with his teeth. Rag had tried that option for a while, but without the sensibilities of a canine mind, it didn't suit his palate. He moved over to the stove to see what Ellie was preparing.

Your favourite, she said.

Well, my weekday favourite, he said. She didn't react. Maybe he'd got the day wrong.

He noticed that Adana was gorging herself on a particularly unhealthy looking breakfast of toast and chocolate spread, coupled with a glass of milk. She saw him staring and seemed to think he was being critical. He was.

I used to love this when I was a kid. She had a beaming smile across her face and a smear of chocolate on her top lip.

Really?.

It's comfort food, said Ellie, You've never done that?

Men tend to use alcohol instead. We don't want to wallow in our problems, we want to forget them.

You sound proud of that. He shrugged. Ellie served him up a large bowl of porridge laced with a good dollop of her special jam, the kind that came with an extra iron kick. It was enough to keep the cravings at bay.

Bones had finished his. He scratched at his collar for a moment, then lay down at Ellie's feet.

So, when are we going out to find this car, then? said Adana.

Not until nightfall.

The woman screwed up her face. So, we have to stay in all day?

You can go out with Ellie, if you want.

We could take Bones for a walk.

No, you couldn't.

But why? I'm sure he wants to go out. Look at those eyes.

Yeah, he wants, some kind of primal instinct that can't be quashed, but he can't. End of.

Rag was beginning to doubt how sensible it had been not to tell her the truth about his faithful companion. He flicked open the newspaper and buried himself in the obituary column. He liked to keep abreast of any potential problems.

It's okay, I understand. He's your dog, so he can only go out at night when you can go out.

The words weren't controversial, but the tone of Adana's voice suggested a level of mocking that made Rag's hackles rise nearly as much as the ones on Bones' back. Ellie, bless her, stepped in to relieve the tension. She'd always been good at working out when either one of them was about to blow. It wasn't a moment too soon. He could hear a low growl coming from the dog's mouth.

Now, Adana. We have our ways and you'd best fall in if you want to stay. We can always get the authorities involved if you want.

No. Please, no. I'd rather stay here until I get my memory back.

Rag lifted his head. He threw the paper across the table at her.

Why don't you look through? Something might jog your memory. You never know, you might live round the corner.

That's a brilliant idea, Adana. And when you've finished, maybe you and I can go for that walk on our own. What do you say?

Adana's pout was reminiscent of a belligerent child.

I guess.

It was another half an hour before they went out, but as soon as the two women left, Rag sat down on the floor and cupped his hands around Bones' skull. He closed his eyes and let the world around him disappear. He pushed past the doggy thoughts, trying to find the Bones he knew was buried deep inside. It took a few minutes. The longer he remained in that body, the more hidden his real self became.

When he found the essence of his friend, he wasted no time.

What do you think of her? Is she legit?

Bones stretched. His sleek Black Labrador coat ruffled a little, the fur lengthening as his legs shrank down. His eyes took on an intense look of concentration, their electric blue still reminiscent of his former life. He hadn't lost the appearance of a Labrador, but there was the hint of a Collie there as well, enabling him to maximise his intelligence and mental capacity.

His voice, in Rag's head, still had that air of authority he remembered. It was a voice that had guided him through many a tricky situation.

She's hiding something. I don't think she's who she says she is.

No, you and me both. All she's told us is her name.

That's what I mean. Ah. Don't suppose you could scratch my neck for me? There's this place just behind my collar that's killing me.

Rag laughed, but quickly stopped himself. If he broke the connection it was unlikely he'd have the chance to try again that day.

When we've finished. Anything you want. So, Adana?

Yeah, okay. So, if she's forgotten everything, how come she knows her name? Now, that hadn't even occurred to Rag. He had to be sharper. Don't trust her a tenth of the distance you can throw her and for the love of all that's not human, don't let her take me out.

Rag grinned. He leaned over and scratched his friend behind his collar. Don't worry. I won't.

FOR MOST of the day, he and Bones snoozed in the bedroom, and it was only snoozing, because the sound of the two women downstairs gossiping about everything and anything that was uninteresting to a man, seemed to seep through the walls. It was seriously annoying.

The moment the sun went below the horizon, he was downstairs with his jacket on.

Right, you, he said, his finger pointed directly at Adana, We need to find this car and get rid of it, otherwise someone is going to see it and when they do that, they're going to start asking questions.

You worry too much, said Ellie.

Yeah, I know that, but I'd rather get rid of it than not. You're not coming with us, are you?

No, I've got too much to do here, but take Bones.

Yeah, come on, boy. Walkies.

Bones gave him the most evil stare.

They set out about eight. Because of Adana's lack of familiarity with the area, and her complete inability to describe anything about the car, other than that she thought it was white, it took nearly two tedious hours to find it. It was a rickety old four-door saloon sitting at the side of a road that barely got any traffic at the weekend, but was a real rat run on weekdays. It was a good job they'd found it, otherwise it would've been bound to draw attention the next day. There was rope on the back seat, but no sign of where it had been cut or tied into knots. There were blood spatters on the door handle, almost perfect in their placement – if you wanted them to be noticed. Rag stood back while Bones did a sniffing tour of the vehicle. There were bound to be things he was more adept at finding and that might be useful later.

What are we going to do with it? said Adana. She almost skipped round the car. Not the kind of behaviour he would've expected when she was standing next to a vehicle in which she'd been held captive, an event that so terrified her, she'd lost her memory.

He logged it with all the other things that didn't sit right.

We're going to tow it out of town.

Why can't we drive it?

Do you know how to drive?

I … I don't know.

Here, tie this around that metal loop, He handed her the end of a towrope and he did the honours on his car, or rather, Ellie's car. There's a car dump about five miles from here. If we deposit it inside and bury it, no-one will even notice it.

And how are we going to do that?

We have our ways.

What happens if someone sees us?

Well, he tied off the rope and went to check Adana's knot, There's this little trick we have that helps people forget.

Oh. Yes. Ellie said.

She did?

Yes. Her explanations of all your abilities were very detailed.

Rag didn't remember hearing that, but he'd zoned out during that first conversation for quite a while and focussed in on the tune of a spider weaving its web. She could've been telling the truth.

So, you know that I can make you forget as well, if I want to?

Yes, and that you can get inside my head and that you can run really, really fast and that you're incredibly strong and you have really good hearing and eyesight. She sounded particularly pleased with herself.

Okay.

"You know that if