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Brothersong

Page 22

by TJ Klune


  “Oh,” Aileen said, her voice husky. “You’d be surprised what we can do. And we’re not going to touch you.”

  Gordo said, “We’re going to contain you. You’re a wolf now. And I know how to trap wolves. You taught me as much.”

  Livingstone’s eyes widened.

  The witches all pulled out knives, some longer than others. They flashed in the sunlight, and I smelled the burn of silver. Gordo was first, slashing the scar where the raven had once been. Blood spilled. He jerked his arm out, blood landing on the ruins of the road. The others followed, slicing hands and palms and forearms. The stench of blood was immediately thick, mixing with the scent of silver. They all raised their hands as one, and I felt a large wave of magic began to build. Sparks filled the air in front of the witches, colliding and melding with each other, bright like fire.

  Livingstone lunged forward. I screamed for Gordo, but Livingstone crashed into the sparks, which flashed as they amassed. He fell backward and landed on the ground, his nose broken but already healing, blood on his lips. He sat up, his hands flat against the pavement.

  On either side of the road, as far as I could see into the forest, the barrier rose.

  “Witches,” Kelly said in my ear. “They came with us. Once we knew where you probably were, they came. They knew what he was capable of. His strengths. His weaknesses.”

  Livingstone picked himself up from the road as the witches lowered their arms. He slowly approached the ward. He raised a hand and hissed when it blackened as if burned once he pressed it against the ward. “Clever,” he said. “I taught you well. You can’t possibly think this will hold me forever.”

  Gordo shook his head. “Not forever. But it will for now. And that’s all the time we need.” He turned away from his father, walking back toward the truck, his blood dripping onto the road. He held his head high, his shoulders squared.

  He stopped when his father said, “Gordo.”

  He didn’t turn around.

  Livingstone said, “You’re making a mistake.”

  Gordo’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at the knife in his hand.

  Livingstone said, “Once I find a way out of here, I will come for you. I’ll come for all of you. And not you, not your pack, no one will be able to stop me.”

  With a practiced move, Gordo flipped the knife in his hand and caught it between his fingers by the blade. He whirled around, hand coming up behind his head before throwing the knife. It spun end over end, and—

  Livingstone clapped his hands together, catching the knife by the blade, the tip pressing into his forehead. A trickle of blood dripped between his eyes and off the side of his nose to his mouth. When he smiled, it stained his teeth. He dropped the knife to the ground, his hands already healing from the burn of the silver.

  “Next time,” Gordo told him, “I won’t miss.” And then he turned around and came toward the truck. “Aileen, Patrice,” he said without looking back, “you know what to do.”

  “We do,” Patrice said. “Get dem home. Do what you must.”

  Gordo climbed into the truck, face hard. The truck roared as he hit the gas. We shot forward. Gavin lurched but remained upright, his tail curling around my hand. Livingstone stood in the middle of the ruined road, watching us. The last I saw of him was the red in his eye before we turned a corner, leaving him behind.

  I WOKE UP SCREAMING in the middle of the night, still caught in the tangle of a nightmare where my brothers turned to dust in front of me, carried away on a harsh wind. They were gone, gone, gone, and I was alone.

  It was dark. I couldn’t see.

  And then my vision cleared.

  Joe and Kelly were there, eyes wide, telling me to stop, Carter, please stop, you’re safe, you’re okay, we’ve got you, we’ve got you.

  “Not real!” I cried as I struggled against their hands. “Not real, you’re not real. Why aren’t you real?”

  They held me down, pressing me into the bed.

  Kelly’s mouth was near my ear. He said, “Listen. Listen to me.” He took my hand and pressed it against his chest. His heart thundered. “Do you feel that? Do you hear it? That’s how you know. You’re safe. You’re with us. We’ve got you. We’re in a motel in Wyoming. We’re with you. Me and Joe and Gavin and Gordo. All of us. I promise you.”

  My skin was slick with sweat. My head was pounding. I waited for them to dissolve again and leave me.

  They didn’t.

  I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself. Joe’s hand was on my forehead, brushing through my hair. He hummed a little song he’d learned from our mother. About how he didn’t mind being lonely when his heart told him I was lonely too.

  “He needs to be home,” Gordo said quietly as Gavin growled. “He needs the pack. All of us.”

  My brothers lay on either side of me, and I didn’t dream again.

  I HEARD GORDO THE NEXT MORNING. He was pacing outside of the motel in the middle of nowhere. I saw him through the window, phone pressed against his ear. Kelly and Joe had gone out to pick up something to eat. Gavin was curled on the floor, a blanket covering him as he snored.

  Gordo said, “And I don’t know what to do. It’s like it was before when everything was dark. When I left you behind even though every part of me was screaming to keep you with me. Mark, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to make it all end. We can’t keep going on like this. I love you. I miss you. I need you. Please don’t ever let me go.”

  I SHOWERED.

  The hot water felt good on my skin. I tried not to focus on how dirty it was as it sloughed off me.

  When I finished, I climbed out, rubbing myself with a towel, desperately avoiding the fogged-over mirror. I didn’t want to see what I looked like, what the past year had done to me.

  A disposable razor sat on the sink next to a travel bottle of shave foam and a small pair of scissors. They hadn’t been there when I’d gotten in the shower.

  I thought about ignoring it.

  Instead, I wiped away the condensation from the mirror.

  A stranger stared back at me, his eyes wide, his hair hanging down near his shoulders. His beard was unkempt over a thin face. His skin was pale, and as I watched, he rubbed a hand against his chest, his collarbones jutting out.

  I didn’t recognize him.

  And yet he was me.

  I didn’t like this man.

  But I understood him.

  I started with the scissors, hacking off as much of the beard as I could. I cut my skin, and it bled. And healed. Bled. And healed. Dirty-blond hair filled the sink, and I saw the shape of my jaw, the sharpness of my cheekbones.

  I spread the foam on my face. It was unscented but still stung my nose.

  When I was finished, I looked at the man in the mirror again.

  His face was too thin.

  His eyes too haunted.

  “Do it,” I muttered. “Do it.”

  I flashed my eyes.

  They flickered orange.

  I told myself it was enough.

  THEY STOPPED TALKING when I opened the bathroom door.

  They all looked at me, but no one spoke.

  I looked down at my feet, scratching the back of my neck.

  And then I was surrounded by the scent of an old forest: organic decay, moss on trees, so bright and green. A hand gripped my jaw, forcing my head up.

  Gavin stood there, turning my face side to side, his gaze roaming over every inch of my face. I let him have his fill.

  Eventually he said, “There you are.”

  I wondered how he could say so much in so little.

  HE MOSTLY SLEPT on the way home. We couldn’t take the chance of him being seen as a wolf, so he stayed human. As we crossed into Idaho, he lay with his head on the window, using Gordo’s coat as a pillow. His leg pressed against mine, and I didn’t move it.

  Gordo said, “Do you remember what it was like?”

  “When?”

  There was a song on th
e radio, something old and soft. He tapped his finger on the steering wheel. “When it was the four of us.”

  “I don’t like to think about it.”

  He nodded as if he expected the answer. “Look at us now. All that we have.”

  “What?”

  He shrugged. “Everything.”

  Gavin whimpered in his sleep, and I took his hand in mine without thinking, brushing my thumb against his palm. He quieted.

  Gordo said, “I hated your father. For the longest time.”

  “I know.”

  “I wish I hadn’t.”

  “You weren’t wrong.” Gavin’s hand twitched in mine.

  “I thought I knew him. But I didn’t. He was more than he appeared.”

  “Why do you think he went to find Gavin?”

  Gordo hesitated. “I don’t know. Guilt? Or maybe he thought he was doing the right thing. He always tried, even when he was wrong.”

  “Your father thinks the same way. That what he’s doing is right.”

  Gordo scowled. “My father is nothing like Thomas Bennett. And don’t ever say anything like that again.”

  I was quiet for a while, the miles melting away. The moon hung in the blue sky, growing fatter every day. Whether by accident or design, we would arrive back in Green Creek the following day.

  Sunday.

  I looked down at Gavin’s hand in mine. His fingers were thin and knobby. There were a few wiry hairs between his knuckles. His palm was soft, and I traced the lines and blue veins.

  I said, “We were lost. The three of us. Grieving. Our father was dead. Our pack was broken. We were chasing a monster. But you came with us. You followed us. You watched over us. Why?”

  Gordo looked out the window at the rolling farmlands. “Because you’re my family.”

  “Even then?”

  “Even then.”

  I laid my head on his shoulder. He grumbled under his breath but didn’t try to move me.

  THAT NIGHT I RAN with my brothers for the first time in a year.

  Kelly shifted, Joe shifted, and I felt fragile and thin, like glass.

  Gordo said, “Go. Run. I’ll stay with the trucks.”

  I glanced at Gavin. He jerked his head toward Kelly and Joe, both of them standing at the edge of a forest. Watching. Waiting. He said, “Fine. It’s fine. I’ll stay with Gordo.”

  “You’re just going to sit there and scowl at each other.”

  “We are not,” Gordo snapped.

  Both of them were scowling.

  I turned away from them. I lifted my shirt over my head and dropped my jeans. The air was cool, but not like it’d been at the cabin. Leaves crunched underneath my feet. I breathed in and out, in and out, and I

  I

  am

  wolf

  i am wolf

  brothers i hear my brothers

  sing

  sing for them sing so they can hear me sing so

  they know i’m here i’m here i’m here

  GORDO AND KELLY swapped trucks in the last miles.

  Gavin sat rigid and straight next to me. He’d been this way ever since we’d passed the sign announcing we’d crossed into Oregon. I took his hand again, the first time I’d done so while he was awake. He gripped it tightly.

  Kelly said, “Ghosts.” It was sudden and out of nowhere. I was still getting used to hearing his voice again. Hearing his heart.

  I looked at him. “What?”

  “You saw ghosts.”

  There was a wolfsong in my head, and it was only growing louder. They could feel us. They knew we were coming home. They were waiting for us, and though it was faint and distant, it would only get louder.

  I said, “I don’t…. I saw you.”

  “You were talking to me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Did… I talk back?”

  All the time. “Every now and then.”

  “Do you know why you saw me?”

  “Because I wanted it more than anything.”

  He nodded. His eyes were wet, but his cheeks were dry. He said, “It’s because I’m your tether.”

  “Still. Always.”

  And Gavin said, “Ghost Kelly because of tether?”

  I looked at him. It was the first time he’d spoken in hours. “Yeah. Home. He reminded me of home.”

  “Home,” he whispered. Then he broke the world. “I saw ghost Carter. When I was alone. Always talking. But there was no thump, thump, thump. Wasn’t real. Wasn’t there. Thomas told me about tethers. Wolves need them. Witches. Humans too. He said people forgot that. Humans need them too. Didn’t understand. Do now.”

  The silence was deafening.

  Kelly’s voice was choked when he said, “Gavin? Did… did our father turn you into a wolf?”

  Gavin shook his head. “No. Not him. He said I couldn’t be wolf. Because of blood. Magic. I wasn’t… like that.” He sounded frustrated, like he couldn’t find the right words. “I asked him. Give me bite. Make me like him. He said no. I was mad. Made him leave. Told him never come back. He was sad. He hugged me. I didn’t hug him. But I did it. I found a wolf. Alpha. Red eyes. When I was older. Bit me. It hurt. I almost died. Alpha said I couldn’t be in pack. He said I was dark. My eyes weren’t right. Violet. Always violet.”

  My hands shook. He didn’t let me go.

  Gavin said, “Easier as wolf. Didn’t need anyone. Didn’t need pack.” He looked out the window. “Alone. Scared sometimes. I found other wolves. Like me. Omegas. And then the bad man tried to hurt us. To make us listen. To make us his.”

  There was a buzzing in my ears. “Bad man?”

  He nodded. “Richard Collins. I didn’t want to listen. I didn’t want to be with him. I tried to tell others. Tried to make them leave. But they didn’t want to. I didn’t know what to do. Brain on fire all the time. He made it worse. Bees in my head.”

  Oh, how I hated the beast and all that he’d done. All that he’d taken away. “Did he know who you were?”

  Gavin shrugged awkwardly. It was such a human thing. He was learning. “No. Didn’t like him.” He bared his teeth. “Bad, bad man. Tried to get in my head. I wouldn’t let him. Different now. Found it. What Thomas told me to find.”

  “What was it?” Kelly asked.

  And Gavin said, “Tether. I found tether. Thump. Thump. Thump. Sound never left. Never went away until I went away. Then ghost Carter there, but I didn’t hear it. Not like before. I asked him why. He said because I was crazy.” He frowned. “Don’t like ghost Carter very much.” He stiffened as if he heard what he was saying. “Don’t like real Carter very much.” But he didn’t pull his hand away from mine.

  “But your eyes,” Kelly said. “You’re still… you’re still an Omega.”

  “I know.” He looked back out the window. “But I’m not bad wolf. I’m good wolf. I don’t hurt people. Only those that try to hurt me. Makes me feel bad if I do. So I don’t.” He looked like he was going to say something else, his mouth opening and closing, but no sound came out. I thought he was done until he sighed. He lifted his hips and reached into the pocket of the jeans Gordo had given him. They were loose on him. He said, “Here. This. This is yours. I kept it for you.” He frowned. “Well. I kept it for me. That’s stealing. I don’t like stealing.”

  And he handed me the photograph of three smiling boys.

  “What is it?” Kelly asked.

  I showed him. “I… had this in the truck. Took it with me.” I didn’t need to say where I’d found it after it went missing, but I thought Gavin knew already. “Kept it on the dashboard so I could see it whenever I needed it.”

  Kelly took the photo from me and glanced down at it, throat bobbing up and down. He nodded and then set it on the dash. He pressed his fingers to his lips and then touched the faces of the boys.

  We drove on.

  AN HOUR LATER I FELT IT.

  The wards, so much bigger than they’d been before. I closed my eyes as I let it wash over me. It was healing, or someth
ing so close to it that it didn’t matter.

  I opened my eyes in time to see the sign for Green Creek.

  At the bottom, carved into the wood, was a howling wolf.

  daddy rico/hello hello

  My father said, “Here it is.”

  I opened my eyes and looked out the window. The trees were green and seemed to stretch on for miles. I could smell them. The scent was old. Familiar. Flashes pulsed in my head, bits and pieces of how it used to be. A tiny town in the mountains. A wolf pack running under a full moon.

  Mom looked back at us. She smiled at me and Kelly, but her smile faded when she got to Joe. Mom and Dad said he’d get better. I didn’t believe them. “Joe,” she said quietly. “Do you see?”

  Joe didn’t answer. He didn’t look at her.

  Kelly poked him in the cheek. “Hey. Joe.”

  He turned to look at Kelly, who flashed his eyes at him.

  Joe’s lips twitched, almost like he was trying to smile. But he didn’t.

  “It’ll be different here,” Dad said. “Better. You’ll see. Everything will be better.”

  I didn’t know who he was trying to convince.

  Kelly sighed and dropped his hand back to his lap. “There’s no other wolves.”

  “No,” Mom said. “But that’s okay. We have each other. And you and Carter will get to go to a real school. Meet new people.”

  “I don’t like new people,” Kelly said.

  Mom shook her head. “You’ll learn. You have to. You—”

  Joe made a noise. It was small, but there. A sigh, an exhalation. Almost like a whine. I could see Dad’s eyes widen in the rearview mirror as Mom turned around.

  But Joe wasn’t looking at us.

  His hands were pressed against the window. He made the sound again.

  Dad slowed.

  I looked back to see Mark doing the same behind us in the large moving truck.

  “Joe?” Mom asked. “What is it?”

  But he ignored her. He was looking out the window at a diner, a place called the Oasis. I could see a woman inside. A waitress. She stood next to a table. Sitting at the table was a kid. He looked like he was my age, but bigger. His hair was dark. He was smiling at the woman. She leaned down and kissed him on the forehead.

 

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