Arguing and dull pain awoke me.

"--our fault you know--"

"--dangerous we can't--"

"--don't trust--"

The more the realm of conscious greeted me, the greater the pain grew until I could no longer hold back the groan.

Something cold touched my forehead I pried open my eyes to be greeted with light.

The blinding white soon betrayed gray shadows and those shadows soon became details.

"How are you feeling?" I followed the voice and hand.

She was an angel, blending seamlessly in with the light.

Crap. This must be heaven. I had died officially died, hadn't I? 

"You're not dead," she assured.

"Really?" My voice was hoarse and dripping in disbelief. 

"Promise. See?" She reached out and took my hand in hers. "Feel that? If you were dead you wouldn't feel anything."

True. Hopefully, death was a lot less painful then the utter rawness my body was feeling now.

"I--the wolves--" My thoughts wouldn't form a sentence.

"You're completely fine. No wolves here," She reassured.

A laugh and a snort sounded behind her and she turned around and glared at the offenders. There were two men in the room--a bedroom, I noted, surprised--one leaning stiffly against the wall and the other lounging in a chair.

The one leaning stood up straighter. "I believe there are some things we need to discuss."

"Yes. Of course," she agreed, giving my hand a final squeeze before releasing it. "How would some food sound?"

It sounded wonderful. "Please."

After assuring me that it should be safe for me to move around, she helped me stand. She was a foot shorter than me, surprising because I wasn't tall to begin with, and she wrapped my good arm easily around her shoulder to support me. The other, I noted, had been meticulously bandaged. 

Odd. If I had been injured enough to require first aid, I wonder why I hadn't woken up at a hospital rather then some strangers' house.

***

This was not boding well for my stomach, I thought, as I watched her add another ingredient to her ever-growing pile. Ingredients was a liberal term. I wasn't sure the combination of items together could be considered ingredients even. Tuna, hummus, peanut butter, mayo, ham, blue cheese.  She couldn't possibly hope to put all those on one sandwich. 

She did.

She had lead me downstairs and deposited me at the table before announcing that she'd make me a sandwich to eat before she got to work buzzing around the kitchen to create what I now knew was the "Sandwich from Hell."

I could barely stand to watch her construct such a monstrosity, but it beat the alternative which would be to interact with the two men. They had followed us downstairs, sat down at the table with me, and didn't say a word.

King Jockstrap, as I stereotypically and childishly nicknamed him, sat disinterested next to me playing on his phone. Despite looking like he could crush me in a one-armed hug, he was the one out of the two I would much rather converse with. The other guy, he wouldn't stop glaring daggers at me everytime I dared to breathe.  No, he clearly and utterly despised me for some unfathomable reason. And he was not afraid to let me know that little secret.

"Maybe I should leave," I suggested as she proudly placed her creation down in front of me. It was a feat, but it smelled even worse then it looked. 

"Nonsense," She said taking a seat next to King Jockstrap. "You still need to eat and recover."

I looked down at the thing before me. Eating that would not aid in my recovery. I needed a distraction or this would send me to the grave I just narrowly avoided.

"How did you find me?" 

It seemed like a reasonable question to me, but it sent the others tensing.

"We live near here and we were taking a hike through the forest. Saw the wolves and one of your shoes and put two and two together. Then brought you back here to be bandaged up," She gave a tightlipped smile.

"Oh." It must have been a grotesque scene to have stumbled upon. 

"Don't you know how to defend yourself from a wolf?" Mr. Glares sneered. 

"Um--no? No one told me there were wolves in Colorado." It felt strange, empty, to utter the last part when it had been one of the last ones I had had before the attack.

"You're new to Colorado." 

I nodded. It hadn't even been a month since we moved.

"Such a warm welcoming. Oh, I'm so rude I haven't introduced myself. I'm Eve. That's Oliver and Luke." She nodded to Mr. Glares and King Jockstrap respectively. 

"Um, Charlie."

"Where did you live before this Charlie?"

A game of twenty questions huh. I guess it was better than a sandwich.

"Utah. And some places before that."

 "I see." Her gaze was thoughtful as she stared at the wall.  

 Silence as she thought.

The clock on the wall caught me off guard. It was hella past late. "Crap. Can I borrow a phone? My mom is going to be bursting a vein."

"You can borrow Luke's," Eve offered and Luke held it out to me without argument.

I was worried for nothing. The call went straight to Mom's full voicemail. I tried three separate times before deciding I'd just have to try again later.

"Did you get your Mom?" Eve asked returning to the kitchen. She had left sometime during my calls.

"No, just voicemail."

"I see. Well, most of your clothing was pretty torn up and I had to throw most things away. The only salvageable thing was this," She held out the cloth in my hand.

Mom's jacket. Salvageable was a loose term. The thing was pretty much rags anyway and still covered in blood. My blood.

"I think it belongs with wherever you put other clothes."

She cocked her head. "You don't want this. It doesn't have...sentimental value to you?"

Sentimental value because it represented when wolves almost mauled me to death? Not likely.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's fine." It wasn't even mine to begin with. And I hoped my own mother would be happy I survived a wolf attack rather than be upset from the tattered remains of a jacket.

"I see." Eve did not seem like she saw or understood why I wouldn't want the jacket. She held it in her hands and pursed her lips.

"It just seemed like a nice and expensive jacket that's all," she finished lamely.

"Expensive?" 

She nodded. "Probably over $300."

Three hundred. Three hundred. Three hundred.

Maybe Mom would kill me after all.

"It's not your jacket, is it?" The breakthrough was written all over her face.

"Yeah. It's my mom's," I muttered haphazardously, my mind still on the three hundred and where I could scrounge together funds for a replacement quickly. 

"Oh.Oh." She shared a look with Luke and Oliver.

It was the slamming of a door that brought us all back to the present.

"Why do I smell fucking blood in my fucking house?" The deep voice echoed and shook the entire house and every nerve in me trembled with it.

"Honey you're home!" Eve squeaked as she rushed to the voice. "How was your day?"

"How was my day? How was my day?" A hulking figure stalked into the kitchen, dwarfing everything around him. "How do you think my day was? Not only do I have a less than respective meeting, but afterward I receive word about a fucking Hunter and when I rush home I find someone injured in my goddamn house. Now does anyone have a fucking explanation for this?"

Each word boomed around the room. Luke and Oliver both ducked their heads and slunk further into their seats. Instinctively I lowered my eyes too and didn't dare look up.

Only Eve was brave enough to break the silence. "Calm down Alec. It's all an incredible misunderstanding. This here is Charlie," I felt her place a hand on my shoulder. "She got injured by some wolves and we're helping her recover. And this here is her mother's jacket." 

I dared enough to sneak a peak to see Eve hand Alec the jacket. He brought it to his face for a moment before pulling it away. And grinning. That sent a shudder through me.

"I see. I see. What a clever little fox I have."

"I think it's best for the time if Charlie stays a reciprocates with us, don't you think."

"What a splendid plan."

It didn't sound splendid, especially not to me. But I couldn't find the words or the voice to object.

Eve must have seen my internal struggle and smiled. "Just for the night Charlie. Just for the night. Then we can worry about it all in the morning.

Despite her words, a small part of me feared that it wouldn't just be for the night.

That small part of me was right.