08 The Beneficial Benefits of Running
Up for a run?, the text read.
Hell yeah, she was up for a run and said as much in her quick response. No teasing, no giving him a second to make him wonder. Just “Yes, I am.” and she was off to find her running gear.
A good run was exactly what she needed.
Two weeks. Everything had changed two weeks ago and Ophilia had not stopped to breathe for any of it. First she had turned in her two week notice but only after she delivered a report of Thomas “Don’t Call Me Tom” Brauthauer’s activities to the appropriate department heads. He was pulled away in handcuffs, screaming obscenities at her and swearing revenge while she stood, arms crossed and smirking. She hoped he came looking for her. She really did.
However, she also had Norman pull everything the internet had on him and set up access to all of his accounts. Just in case.
The vice presidents had been pleased. The project would be closed within days and they had something else they wanted to put her on. But then she had dropped the resignation letter on the conference table and explained that she was leaving in two weeks.
They had been upset and that made her feel good. They asked for explanations and she kept it vague with suggestions of an opportunity that could not be passed up. One of them looked at her squarely and said “It’s him isn't it? Adam Trajan recruited you.” She smiled and shook her head. And it wasn’t a lie. The Perdition Falls Historical Preservation Society was not owned, operated or influenced by Adam Trajan in any way whatsoever. At least on paper. Honi and Ophilia had combed through the paperwork at least three times each and Adam’s name wasn’t mentioned once. They were free and clear. Adam had said that he would step away whenever she asked but she hadn’t seen or heard from him since donuts and legal stuff so it didn’t seem to be a concern.
Money was still an issue. The taxes were paid and protections had been established but where was the money going to come from to pay her salary?
Adam had shrugged. “Grants and donations,” he had said. “It’ll be fine.”
It’ll be fine. Coming from a man who had no idea how not fine things could be.
But when she had expressed her concern over a meal of box mac and cheese with diced up hot dogs (Pappi’s favorite), Honi just smiled. “So you need donations, huh?”
And that was that. After a few dinners where Ophilia layered up bullshit about the Perdition Falls Historical Society and the need to protect the heritage of the city while the potential doner gawked at Honi, she had accountants calling for proof that the Society was a legit non-profit and money was landing in the Society’s checking account.
It’ll be fine.
Now she had money. She was responsible for that money. She had to keep things legit. Yes, the donations were just write offs to the donors but what if the government stepped in for an audit or she got behind on taxes again or did she even owe taxes if the Society was a non-profit? So then came the sleepless nights while she combed the internet for the pitfalls of running a non-profit.
With three days left of her two weeks notice, the company made a counter offer. It was a little bit more than her salary at the Society. Which had to be a coincidence. Or was it?
Honi had smiled. “I told you. You did the work. Norman got you in the door but you ran your team, you solved problems and you got results.”
“But it was all fake!”
“The only thing fake was your name.”
Whatever. Ophilia declined the offer eventually but she thought hard about trying to cover both jobs. If she did that, she would never have time for her other activities. The Society gave her the freedom to hunt and protect. The company was just a job.
Besides, people were calling. Locals with concerns over cemeteries covered in weeds and crumbling chapels that need restoring. But the Society couldn’t just pay for all of it. The donation flow would keep them afloat but there were obvious limitations. So she had delved deep into the world of grants and government assistance until her head hurt.
Her last day at the company came and went. The next day she sat on the blue tiled floor of the showers holding her knees tight, sobbing hysterically as water fell and took away her tears. Her chest hurt, her body shook. And she cried. It happened every now and again but this time was different. Ophilia thought it had something to do with the relief that had washed over her as she passed through the glass doors of the company with her box of desk stuff. No more faking it. The asylum was safe. Her people had a place to be. For real.
It felt like a dream. She had fought and scrapped and fought and she and Honi had both done things but it didn’t matter. They had the asylum and her people were safe. But she needed to cry. Afterward, she felt better.
So hell yeah, she needed a run. A hard run. Eddie had said he would be gone for a while but obviously he was back and his timing was impeccable. She threw water bottles and back up running shorts in a backpack and snuck past the kitchen to get to the garage. She fired up the motorcycle, a lean sport bike that was actually registered and legal unlike basically everything else that was available in the garage. Monsieur Portier had built it from parts but she had it registered under Norman’s name when she started at the company. For reasons.
Ophilia eased the motorcycle up to the road and then spun the throttle open, leaving a black question mark on the pavement as she headed toward Copper Canyon.
The sun had set by the time Ophilia dropped the kickstand and secured the bike in a parking lot of Copper Canyon State Park. She scanned the area but saw and heard nothing. This was the third parking area inside the park, closest to the trails she would run. The area fell under the white glow of a single security light that covered the public restrooms. The smell of pine and mulch oozed from the surrounding forest on cool mountain air. Stars shone in a cloudless sky with a half moon well on its way to the zenith. It was a good night for a run.
She stripped off her sweatpants leaving her tight running shorts and a sports bra. There was a choice of three trails. Ophelia looked into the tunnel made by the reaching limbs of the trees of the middle path as she stretched out her hamstrings and the archanites began dancing along the lines that raked her arms and legs as they anticipated intense activity. She tamped them down a bit. They would burn out too soon if she let them run wild now.
Ophilia still didn’t know what the archanites were and it occurred to her that she might have time to worry about that now. Before, she was just surviving. She used them and thought little of it. She knew what they were called by some strange instinct and that same instinct guided her in their use but she didn’t know exactly what they were. She had woken up on hard cement in an underground bunker. She had known her name. She had known that her friends were called archanites. She had known what they could do.
Anxiety roiled her gut at the thought of the bunker and the archanites responded. She huffed a short laugh. Certain types of anxiety would spike the lights to their brightest and she was quite the light show in a dark parking lot. A few deep breaths eased them down again. But she was going to have to think about the bunker at some point. She was going to have to go back into the bunker at some point.
But not now. Not tonight. Tonight she needed to run.
Ophilia checked her laces and then jogged to the center path and entered the darkness. Her eyes adjusted to dappled moonlight falling onto a trail of packed red earth and pine needles. She focused on her breathing, in two, release, in two, release, but she also checked the wind for new scents and watched for openings and movement. This run would leave the trail at some point and she would need a way out, an alternate path.
In two, release, In two, release.
Her rhythm found her. Fast enough not to be a jog. Slow enough to not be quite a run. A place where the breath met the steps and she could run for days.
In two, release. In two, release.
The trail curved slowly to the left and then forked. A carved wooden sign with bright yellow letters indicated that the cross country trail continued left or the hiking trail branched right. She took the hiking trail. She enjoyed her rhythm and the hiking trail would be more of the same.
In two, release. In two, release.
It became a meditation. A place where the mind only functioned to run the rhythm and she soaked in it. The moon moved, the stars glistened and her eyes were fully adjusted to the shadows and shade. The trees slid past and her feet tapped the hard clay.
In two, release. In two, release.
Then her neck tensed with the sudden awareness that something was behind her. She kept her breath, though, and her pace. It was big but padded quietly, maybe with a hint of urgency as it tried to close the gap between them. If she called the archanites now, the lights would give her away. If she waited too long, it could have her in a lunge.
Ophelia stopped. It stopped. She spun and set her fists on her hips. The air had cooled slightly and she could see her breath. Scanning the path behind her, she waited as it crept forward, low to the ground, the patchwork moonlight slowly revealing the shape of a massive hybrid of man-wolf with rippling muscles and black fur save for a streak of white that crossed its left milky white eye and trailed down its neck. It bared its teeth, showing fangs that practically glowed in the moonlight and growled a deep, low seismic growl that tripped a primal burst of fear that ran tingles up the back of her legs and up her spine. The archanites refused to wait to be called and the lines along her legs and arms began to churn with needles of neon as her world slowed down.
Ophelia took several steps backward as she adjusted her perception to her new speed. The wolf lunged forward in slow motion, sweeping massive clawed hands at her as she twisted and ran. The sound of the beast at a full charge behind her spurred her to push even harder. She could imagine it’s huffing breath on her heels as its claws tore at the gravel and dirt in a loping run.
She knew this part of the trail well and ahead there would be a boulder and a bend. If she continued straight off the trail, she would be headed down the hill toward the stream. If she could get far enough ahead, she could pick a direction and follow the stream for a second to throw it off the scent and then maybe use the ridge to avoid it. Maybe. But now she had to run.
The trees slipped by in a blur and she could hear the wolf pounding the trail behind her, barely keeping pace. The boulder emerged ahead and she lengthened her stride even more. As the trail bent around the rock, Ophelia jumped and kicked off of the boulder and rolled into the tree line. She landed a bit off, stumbling, sliding in the layers of leaves and pine needles but then she found her footing and immediately cut back to the right, following the downward slope, moving fast but not as fast as before as she dodged trees and bounded over terrain. At one point she paused and crouched in a shadow and listened. The wolf roared with rage somewhere up the hill. It had lost her and now it would hunt by scent.
Or it would see her lights. She willed the archanites into submission again.
Down the hill she heard the stream breaking over rocks. She was close. Pushing up, she picked her way down, moving from shadow to shadow until she found the edge of the stream which was not deep but a bit too wide to jump across. Ophelia found another shadow, a fallen log that almost made a bridge across the stream and she paused and listened again.
Upstream, a waterfall whispered. Downstream darkness and shadow. Across the stream, the bank rose sharply to a ridge. Ophelia returned her attention upstream. That’s where it would come out.
And seconds later it did, splashing into the stream, head jerking left and right. It lifted its snout up and sniffed the air and Ophelia instinctively dropped deeper into the shadow of the fallen log. It turned upstream and took a couple of loping strides, taking in long, huffing sniffs at each bank, looking for her scent.
She eased up. She intended to run downstream and then up the bank to the right. Then she could make her way back on the other side of the ridge toward the waterfall. It may or may not have her scent by then but at the top of the waterfall was a path that led back to the trail. And then she could break for the trail head.
She needed a head start though. Ophelia pushed away from the log and took a cautious step back, avoiding the water. Running in wet shoes would suck. Another step. The beast still moved toward the waterfall. She began to think about bringing the archanites up when she felt the breeze at her back, a sudden lift of cool night air that stirred the bushes and trees and took her scent straight to the wolf.
The beast spun, sending up a spray of water that glistened in the moonlight. Their eyes locked and panic bloomed in her groin, a cooling warmth that rushed to her limbs. The wolf charged with a roar and Ophelia spun and ran, leaping from rock to rock and ducking low hanging limbs. The archanites gave her more speed but the wolf was right behind her. She made for the right hand bank splashing through the water she had hoped to avoid and found enough purchase to scramble through the trees. The wolf could not turn that fast and lumbered past but turned into the woods further down the stream.
Ophelia made for the ridge line, legs pumping, thighs burning. To her left she heard limbs breaking and labored breathing. Close to the peak of the ridge, she turned back to the waterfall. The ground leveled enough that she could push herself and the archanites to even greater speed. If she could get to the trail with just enough of a lead, she could make the trailhead. She could hear the waterfall again and angled toward it only to realize that the wolf was much closer than she had thought, higher up the ridge and working to cut her off. She cut toward the waterfall, discovering the edge of the cliff above the pool of water before she expected it but suddenly the wolf lunged for her, reaching for her from the darkness with arms and claws wide.
Ophelia jumped from the cliff, arching her back to try to salvage the fall and turn it into a dive. The wolf soared above her, eclipsing the moon as she spun to meet the water. An instant later she splashed into the center of the pool and sank into the chilling depths. The archanites shut down immediately. They did not tolerate extreme temperature changes and the icey water shocked the breath out of her and she almost inhaled before her head broke the surface where she slapped at the water in a moment of panic before kicking hard to keep from sinking again. Coughing and sputtering she kicked for the nearest bank and came up on a bed of moss underneath the washed out roots of a massive tree that leaned over the pool. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she shivered and pushed further on to the bank and out of the water.
It took her a minute to find her breath and roll over. She looked across the pool with the waterfall stoically falling to her left and saw the wolf sitting on the opposite bank, one white eye glowing in the moonlight and the other a point of red under furrowed brows. It snarled, showing white teeth and then it leaped and landed at the edge of the water with a splash. Lowering its head, it prowled a cautious step forward with a low rumbling growl.
Ophiliea glared at its slow, menacing approach. No place to run. No archanites for help. She was cornered.
“Fine,” she sneered. “Uncle.”
The wolf huffed, snorted and withdrew a step. Ophilia closed her eyes. Different types of shifters shifted differently. For Honi, it was a pop and she was done. For others, it was a step and a flow from one form to another. But werewolves were particularly brutal. Their bodies pulled in the light and one could watch the warping of bone, flesh and reality that was over fairly quickly but left an indelible impression on the psyche. She waited until she heard decidedly human breathing and then she opened her eyes. Eddie knelt at the edge of the water, his fists on the moss of the bank. His shoulder length black hair swept away from his face. The white streak met the scar at his forehead and traced down across his eye and feathered down to his jawline, but in this form the eye was dark. The wolf had been struck by lightning under odd circumstances that Eddie refused to divulge. The scar carried over to his human self but the eye was fine.
He smiled and she melted a bit. He was boyfriend handsome with a good body, even as his smile went feral and he lunged forward.
“Stop,” she commanded and he did. “Wait.” He would wreck her clothes, which was
why she packed the spare shorts but she had no desire to walk back to the bike naked from the waist down. She whipped her sports bra over her head. He edged forward on all fours, every muscle defined and taut.
“Stay,” she ordered, holding up a finger. He growled, the same soul sundering growl that the wolf had used. She held his gaze while hooking her thumbs into the waist of her shorts. She peeled them off but before she could clear her lifted ankles, Eddie pounced and he landed with his head between her thighs and his mouth on her. She gasped and squealed at the same time as she clamped her thighs around his head while struggling to get at least one foot free. Eddie’s hands pushed at the back of her knees, his tongue working furiously. Heat and pleasure chased each other up her center and she panted out short moans that matched his rhythm even as she pulled one foot free of the shorts. Legs free, she took handfuls of his hair and ground into his face and tongue until her body stiffened and she shuddered through her orgasm.
“Holy shit,” she breathed. Eddie pushed her legs apart and climbed up her body, teasing and tasting on the way, as his hands found her breasts and hard nipples. His lips found hers and and the kiss met the rising heat and desire that had found its way through her body and she almost came again even as she felt him hard and testing her. He paused though and kissed her deeply again even as she wrapped her legs around his hips and tried to pull him in. Eddie resisted. His hands roamed down the sides of her body setting off cascading waves of pleasure. Ophilia tried to slide down, once again pulling with her legs but he held her and matched her movements.
He was right there and she felt so empty. She bucked her hips and he broke the kiss and leaned up. His hand went to her collarbone, his thumb across her throat, holding her down. Then he slowly pressed in and she sobbed with relief. He bottomed out and held there and again she bucked against him, grinding through another orgasm. Only then did he slowly build a steady tempo of thrusts with agonizing pauses that slowly rose to a panicked finish of growls and gripping and pulling at each other until he stiffened and moaned. He relaxed onto her, his head beside her and she held him, wrapping him up as tight as she could as he lay panting.
“Good run,” he said eventually.
“You cheated,” she said with a smile and he laughed.
•
Ophilia was little spoon with Eddie’s leg draped over her hip for warmth and her head on his bicep for a pillow.
“How did you know that cold water would shut them down?” she asked.
“Astute observation,” he said with a chuckle. “But I thought it would just slow you down.”
Ophilia huffed and Eddie laughed again.
So what did she have you doing this time?” she asked.
Eddie shifted. “Nothing really, Courier stuff mostly. Some stake outs. Pretty boring actually.”
“She doesn’t know about us.”
“Oh, hell no.”
Ophilia nodded. She could feel him lift his head and his hand came up to pull hair out of face and tuck it behind her ear. “Everything okay?” he asked.
She rolled over to face him. “Yeah,” she said. “It’s fine.”
He looked concerned. “But?”
“Nothing,” she said. “Really.”
Eddie touched her face again. With her thigh between his legs, she could feel that he was gearing up for round two.
“Do you think this could ever be anything more?” she asked suddenly.
His hand had moved down to her breast. “Anything more?” he said. “You mean anything more than just the beneficial thing?”
She nodded. He pulled her closer. “Honestly? I wouldn’t be opposed to trying.”
“But.”
Eddie nodded. “Exactly.”
Ophilia ducked her head and tucked it under his chin. Eddie sighed.
“Do I know him,” he asked.
“It’s not like that.” A small lie. “It’s just that a lot has changed and things will never be the same. And if there was ever going to be a chance with us, past the benefits thing.”
Eddie nodded again. “It would have to happen now.”
Ophilia didn’t answer. Silence lingered until Eddie took a deep breath.
“I don’t want you to ever think that I’m rejecting you,” he began. “Things are just way more complicated than ‘Let’s just leave it all behind’.”
She lifted her head to look into her eyes.
“I totally agree,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “I just want it out in the open that we were a definite maybe.”
He frowned and pushed himself up so that he was propped up on one elbow. “So we’re done then?”
Ophilia shook her head. “I’m good if you are,” she said. “But things are changing so fast.”
Eddie’s frown remained. “I wish I could ask for details but we agreed to no details.”
“It’s safer.” She gently pushed him over and straddled his hips, laying her head on his chest. “But it may be safer for me now.” She drew circles in his chest hair. “But you can’t leave can you?”
“I can’t,” he said, his voice suddenly distant. “I won’t. Abigail would never allow it.”
Ophilia closed her eyes at the sound of that name and the shift in Eddie’s mood. Abigail had that effect on the wolves of Antigone. And it made her queasy to think about it. Something was wrong there. Deeply wrong. The same instincts that gave her the archanites screamed in frustration at the situation. Something wasn’t right and Abigail knew it.
But they had agreed. No details.
“You could ask though,” she tried.
“No,” he said, without hesitation and something inside her broke. She couldn’t explain why or what but a path to the future was definitely done. She had told him that they weren’t finished yet but maybe they were.
“No,” he said again, his hand mindlessly stroking her hair. “I owe Abigail everything.”
Ophilia looked up at him. His eyes were distant, shaded.
“Abigail is everything,” he whispered.
She closed her eyes and put her forehead to his chest.
One more time.
But then she would have to let Abigail have him.
