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Afterlife

Page 19

by Dannika Dark


  Viktor sat back. “You will stay here until we find a solution. This is a safe place. It is not your home, but if you are in danger, I will protect you.” He scratched his silver beard, a pensive look on his face. “I will call your Packmaster and threaten to expose him if he comes after us.”

  The girl eased her hold, and when I looked at Gem, she had tears welling in her eyes.

  Gem shot to her feet. “Do you want to sleep in my room tonight? I have lots of pretty rocks and fairy lights all over the place.”

  Marelle shook her head. “No, I like Kira’s room. It’s small, and I feel safe in there.”

  “Then what are you doing out here?” I asked.

  She gave me a sheepish look. “Kira fell asleep, and I wanted to see if you had any snacks.”

  Wyatt snorted. “Kid, we got snacks. Tell me what you like, and I’ll get it for you.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

  Marelle stood behind me. “Do you have any cookies?”

  Wyatt twirled his hat between two fingers and then draped it over his shoulder. “Do you like chocolate or peanut butter?”

  “Um…”

  “I’ll bring you both. I’m all finished with dinner,” he said, making air quotes.

  Blue dropped her napkin on her plate. “I’ll take her back to Kira’s room. Marelle, you have to stay in there. You can’t wander around without one of us.”

  “I’m sorry. I like your earrings,” she said as they left the room.

  Viktor steepled his fingers. “How many children were in that pack?”

  I shrugged. “Blue mentioned there were a lot of girls but only a couple of women.”

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Shepherd asked, the tip of his steak knife twisting against the tabletop.

  Hunter grabbed his jelly beans and raced out of the room.

  With that, Shepherd scooted his chair away from the table. “I’ll be back. This kid’s gotta eat.”

  “Maybe some soup,” I suggested.

  Gem hopped up. “I can make soup!”

  Shepherd gave her a skeptical look.

  Gem took off her apron and folded it over the chair. “From a can, Mr. Grumpy. I was just experimenting tonight.”

  “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather eat meat.”

  “Alas, there wasn’t an animal carcass available in the fridge. Maybe next time I can serve you a whole hog on a spit.”

  “Those are pretty good,” Wyatt remarked. “I had some in Hawaii a million moons ago.”

  I turned my attention to Viktor. “I’m staying on this case. I think it’s worth our time.”

  Wyatt stood up. “Well, it sounds to me like you don’t know anything.”

  Christian pointed a knife at him. “Did anyone ask your opinion?”

  Wyatt put his hat on. “I wasn’t talking to her. I should have known a spook-free house was too good to be true. Usually one or two wander in, but they always leave with one of you when I ignore them. This one won’t keep his mouth shut.” Wyatt made a talking motion with his hand, aimed behind him. “I’m not for hire. You’re going to have to find yourself another Gravewalker to settle your affairs, buddy boy.” Wyatt pushed in his chair. “Singing doesn’t bother me. That’s what earphones are for.”

  I used to think Wyatt was divorced from reality, but now I was beginning to see the reason behind his recreational drug habit. Back when I’d first arrived at Keystone, there were apparently a lot of specters in the mansion. After they cleared out, Wyatt seemed calmer—maybe because he was getting more sleep. Whoever was haunting him was probably one of the bears we’d taken out or maybe the wolves who ran Niko and Blue off the road. In any case, they were Wyatt’s problem now.

  “What’ll happen to that girl’s pack?” I asked. “Are you going to do anything?”

  Viktor’s grey eyes narrowed. “I was not certain what we were dealing with until just now. I know these animals. I have seen many like them in my time. They keep just enough women to breed children but not so many as would rise up against them. Men like these find each other and form packs with evil intentions.”

  I wondered how many jails cells were available. “Are you going to turn them over to the Council?”

  He lifted his glass and swirled the wine. “Nyet. Wyatt, get as much information on these packmates as you can. I am certain that all have violated the law or were kicked out of other packs for nefarious reasons. Gather evidence to prove a conspiracy. I cannot take action unless I know this is what it looks like.”

  “I’m on it,” he said, strutting out of the room. “Let me get those cookies first.”

  Gem gripped the back of her chair. “What can I do?”

  “Work with Wyatt. Some of these Shifters may be old and in one of your historical books.”

  “And me?” Shepherd asked.

  Viktor stood. “Polish your weapons.”

  After taking Marelle back to Kira’s room, Blue changed into her red dress and walked to the back of the mansion. She didn’t feel like flying tonight—too much was on her mind. She breathed in the night air, the most wonderful scent in the world. After a short walk, she reached the part of the grass that sloped down and gave her the best view on a moonlit night. The mansion was a dark shadow looming behind her, the blue circular clock window in Claude’s room visible because he had all his candles lit. When she found a nice spot at the crest of the hill, she took a seat in the grass, her knees drawn up and her eyes on the stars.

  Matteo appeared out of nowhere and sat to her left. “That dress is becoming on you.”

  “How did you know I was out here?”

  “Your scent calls to me.”

  She snorted. “And what do I smell like?”

  “Everyone has a different scent to a Chitah. Yours is like a spice. Cinnamon or something close to that.” He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, which Blue found a little creepy. Claude had never mentioned her personal scent, but maybe that was because it would be inappropriate.

  “Are you cold, female? I have a coat in my tent.”

  “Did you wash it in the pond?”

  Matteo chuckled. “You forget I’m a man of the wild. The woods are my home. Are they not yours?”

  “They were.”

  He flicked his gaze down. “How is your leg?”

  “Like new.”

  “I’ve always envied Shifters for their gift of healing. Chitahs heal—just slower.”

  “I work with a Chitah. He’s pretty tough.”

  “Should I worry if he’s put his tongue on your wounds?”

  She smiled. “Claude has put his tongue on almost everyone. You Chitahs are strange.”

  “It’s a gift that comes in handy when healing superficial scrapes. Mothers can heal their young so they don’t grow up with scars.”

  Blue looked away.

  “My apologies.”

  “Shifters admire scars. Just not so much on women,” she muttered.

  A lightning bug flashed in front of her.

  When Matteo didn’t say anything in return, Blue stole a glance at him. He had a strong profile. His nose had a slight bump, and his convex forehead gave him an intense stare. But those lips—she couldn’t help but remember how soft they were, even with that ridiculous excuse for a beard. Matteo looked like a nomad—a warrior without a home. “When is the last time someone cut your hair?”

  He gave her an amused look. “Is it not to your liking?”

  “I think how a man grooms himself says a lot about him. You look like you lost interest decades ago.”

  “Perhaps I did. When you live alone, there’s no need for grooming.”

  “It makes me think you don’t have a high opinion of yourself.”

  “That doesn’t change my opinion of you.”

  She admired the universe above. “Maybe it says more about where you are in your life. What was that look you gave me?”

  “What look?”

  “When I came home bleeding. I k
now that look. Want to tell me about it?”

  He wrung his hands. “I lost my kindred spirit.”

  Blue understood that most Chitahs who lost a kindred spirit to death never recovered from the traumatic loss. Even the rejected ones suffered, just not nearly as much. A kindred spirit was their perfect match—the one they were born to love.

  “I’m sorry” was all she could say.

  “I gave up everything, and I still failed her.”

  “How?”

  Matteo cleared his throat. “I was once a bounty hunter, and I made a lot of enemies. Sarah changed everything. How we met isn’t a romantic story. She was the daughter of one of the men I hunted. She proved his innocence, and it changed how I felt about my job. She made a new man out of me and talked me into building that cabin. Then she gave me a daughter, and my life was complete. I thought we’d be safe in the woods.”

  Blue knew where this story was going. “But someone found you.”

  “Yes. And I wasn’t there. I’d gone to negotiate a trade—we were low on meat, and I needed more traps. When I returned…” Matteo’s voice cracked, and he shielded his face. It seemed like a decade passed before he put his hands down and finished. “I should have been there to protect them. I can’t even remember what I said to her before I left. I can’t remember if I kissed her or told her that she was my world. And our baby—”

  Matteo’s upper and lower fangs punched out, giving him the appearance of a wild cat.

  Blue didn’t dare move. If a Chitah flipped their switch, they could be unpredictable. She didn’t know this guy well enough to guarantee her safety.

  His nose twitched, and he covered his mouth. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss, and I know those words are so weak. There’s nothing a person can say to lessen the pain. Sometimes just hearing condolences makes it worse, like poking at a wound.”

  His fangs retracted. “Share your past with me.” Matteo placed his hand on her knee. “Please. You would honor me, and something tells me it’s why you aren’t with your people anymore. What brought you to this band of misfits?”

  She gave a mirthless chuckle. “Fate, I guess.”

  “Does your family not miss you?”

  “I have no family.”

  He lightly squeezed her knee and withdrew his hand. “Was it that bad?”

  “Worse.” Blue sometimes imagined her pain as a lake beneath a thin sheet of ice. She had spent years freezing the surface, working on protecting those waters with a solid layer that nothing could penetrate. But ever since finding that girl, hairline cracks had begun to form, and some of that water was leaking to the surface.

  “It’s easier to talk to a stranger,” he said. “I’ve never told my story to anyone, and even though I didn’t reveal every gruesome detail, I feel comforted in a strange way. Think of it this way: if you choose me as your mate, you’ll have confided your deepest secrets and shown me your trust. If you reject me, you’ll never see me again, and you won’t be reminded that someone knows your secrets.”

  The temptation beckoned her. Blue had given Niko a few small details, but not nearly all of it. Even Viktor didn’t know the full story.

  She found herself unable to sit, so she rose to her feet. Could she tell this memory without unraveling? “I once had a family. There was a land dispute between my tribe and another. Isn’t that what most wars are all about? Land.” Blue turned her back to Matteo and faced the expansive grounds that rolled downward to a valley. “The enemy tribe owned land that our ancestors were buried on. My father couldn’t acquire the rights back, and the leader wouldn’t sell it to him. So they made a treaty. My father would give up his most precious possession in exchange for them agreeing not to build on that land, to only use it for hunting.”

  “And you were that possession.”

  Blue turned toward him. “Yes. My tribe believed in arranged marriages, and mine was supposed to unite two enemy tribes. I took pride in my role. I had a decent mate, but he wasn’t a tender man. He provided for me and our two sons, and that was enough.”

  Matteo stayed seated, his arms draped over his knees, caught in her spell.

  “I had good boys though. They loved their mother and made me laugh. They showered me with all the affection that he didn’t, and that made up for everything. My sons were my world.” Blue’s lower lip trembled, and she steered her eyes to the ground. “One day, my chief gave someone permission to build on that land. They had broken the treaty after twenty years. My father’s tribe issued a threat, and I don’t know all the details of what was discussed or not discussed.” She clenched her fists. “They should have worked it out. It didn’t have to be that way.”

  Memories sliced through her like hot knives, and she turned to face the darkness. In the distance, a dying fire by Matteo’s campsite seemed to thaw those frozen memories.

  Blue swallowed hard, trying to keep that ice beneath her feet as cold as possible. “Once a year, all the warriors gathered for a special tribal ceremony. My mate and older son went, and I stayed home with Chen. We called him Chen for short—his father gave him a ridiculously long name.” Blue tried to smile, but the good memories never stayed for long. “I woke up to screaming and war cries. Chen was only thirteen, but I’ll never forget seeing him face that door with a spear in his hand. My boy was replaced by a man in those moments. He was protecting his mother.” She heard another crack in the ice. “When the door flew open, the first man inside got a spear in the chest. Right through the heart. But the second and third and fourth man who barged in couldn’t be stopped. I took one down with my axe, but the others had taken Chen, forced him on his knees, and…”

  Tears streamed down Blue’s face as she stared at that distant fire. “Those men held me down so I could watch my son die. Then they left me. I didn’t have the strength to get up and fight, because my whole world had just ended.” Blue couldn’t bring herself to give Matteo the details of how they had sliced Chen’s throat. How Chen had gasped for air, clutching his neck until he collapsed in a heap. Her child. Her boy. Her cherished one.

  She felt Matteo’s hands rest on her shoulders as he stood behind her.

  Gathering her courage, she continued. “When my mate and the others returned, they found everyone dead. Everyone except me. My father had given orders to keep me alive. He didn’t care about his grandsons because they shared my mate’s blood—the blood of his enemy.”

  “What was your mate’s name?”

  Blue whirled around. “He doesn’t deserve his name to ever be spoken on this earth again,” she said through clenched teeth.

  Matteo’s nose twitched, and he took a step back.

  Blue felt the emotions culminating within her like a cyclone, and that pain turned to fury. “They blamed me. They said I had cursed them. But they were the ones who broke the treaty! My father assumed by planting me in that tribe that I would make sure that the treaty was upheld. Those weak and worthless men were to blame.”

  “They cast you out, didn’t they?”

  Blue shook her head, her eyes sliding down to a brown rabbit nibbling on a patch of grass. “My mate was pressured into taking action—pressured by the tribal council. But he did it without hesitation. They had a ceremony the next day, calling to the gods for strength. They planned to go to war with my father’s tribe, but a sacrifice was in order. All of their women and children were dead.” She lifted her head and held Matteo’s gaze. “They tied down my eldest—the baby I nursed and sang to. The son I had so many dreams for. The young man who was handsome and strong and had caught the eye of several prominent women. Even in his last moments, he looked at me and told me to run. Afraid for my life, he wanted me to flee. He tried to talk me into it the night before, because he felt safe within the tribe. He shared their blood, but I didn’t.”

  Matteo released a breath but was unable to say anything.

  Blue folded her arms, bracing herself. “Nayati went with such bravery. He b
raced himself as his father stood over him with the knife. He cursed his father. He called to the spirits of his ancestors to curse everyone in the tribe. Then my mate knelt down, shook his head, and stabbed my son in the chest.”

  When the memory took hold, Blue couldn’t keep it together. She grimaced from the pain, the memories so raw and vivid that she relived all those last moments. All the what-ifs and regrets. Why hadn’t she told her son that she loved him? Could she have bargained for his life? All she had done was scream no, no, no.

  Matteo’s arms were around her, but they didn’t ease her sorrow. No one had ever comforted her through this pain because it was a tragedy she bore alone. “I’m so sorry, female. Pain like ours should never be endured.”

  When Blue remembered the men releasing their hold, how she had rushed to her son and draped herself over him, her knees buckled, and she crashed through the ice. She remembered so vividly placing her hand on his chest and watching his breath grow more and more shallow. She couldn’t even speak in that moment. Bleary-eyed, she had managed to sit up and cradle his face in her hands. Nayati stared up at the sky, his eyes fixed. She remembered the singing around her, celebrating that her firstborn was dead. She remembered the feel of his cheeks in her hands and how chubby they once had been as a child. Blue had held her son until his heart finally stopped, something she felt against her fingertips. His spirit had already departed, but she couldn’t bring herself to let go until he was truly gone.

  Now on her knees, Blue fisted the grass, tears spilling down her nose. “I took that knife out of his chest and put it in my mate’s back. Then I found an axe and killed eleven warriors before they could hold me down. I wanted to die fighting. I didn’t care anymore.” She sat back on her heels and wiped her runny nose. “Nothing mattered. My heart and soul both died, and I had nothing to lose. My life was inconsequential.”

  Matteo knelt in front of her. “How did you escape?”

  “The chief wanted me to live. He wanted me to suffer for my entire life as they would. And I have. I want to remember my sons, but all I can see is the look in their eyes when they died. Be thankful you were at least spared that. My father and my mate stole good memories and replaced them with pain and regret.” She took a calming breath, felt that ice solidifying beneath her feet again. “We argued, you know. Our last night together, and we fought. Nayati was willing to go to battle to avenge his brother’s death. Battle against his own grandfather. He loved his little brother, and it crushed him when he saw the body. He wanted revenge. I was scared. I didn’t want to lose another son, so I told him he couldn’t go to battle with the others. You never think the last conversation you have with someone is going to be the last, and I live with that.”

 

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