Valley of the Shadow

by Elizabeth Hunter

  Natalie nodded.

  “Then we’d better get to work.”

  Baojia looked at the list Natalie had copied from Dez’s notebook. “Mountain climbing? Waterskiing?” He looked up with a frown. “You’ve never done either of those things.”

  Leave it to Baojia to focus on the details. “I know, but I always meant to.”

  He was still reading the list. “Oh, come on. A tattoo?”

  “I never got one, but I always wanted one, and I think once I’m immortal, it’ll be kind of impossible, right?”

  “I think your body would just push the ink out,” he muttered. “What the hell kind of tattoo do you want?” He lifted his head. “What am I saying? We’re in the middle of nowhere. You’re not going to find a tattoo place anywhere close.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Gus said there’s a guy in the nearest town by the mouth of the river—he does them in his kitchen.”

  His expression didn’t evoke confidence. “You want a guy who does tattoos in his kitchen to put something on your body that you’re going to have for eternity?”

  “He might be really good!”

  Baojia sat on the edge of the bed and stared at her list. “I’ve had over a hundred years of life. It’s been good. You killing me now would be fine except that we have two young children to take care of.”

  She sat next to him and rubbed his shoulder. “It’s just a tattoo.”

  “I’m not worried about the tattoo. I’m worried about the rock climbing. And the waterskiing—”

  “I think we can take the waterskiing off—”

  “Oh, can we?” He stood. “Natalie, this is… ridiculous.”

  Oh no he didn’t. “Excuse me?”

  “You have cancer. Your body is already fighting to stay well right now. And you want to…” He shook the paper in his hand. “Seriously?”

  She rose to her feet. “Do you really think I’m so stupid that I’m going to risk my life? You think I’m gonna get sicker in the next week? Do you think I don’t feel what’s happening in my own body?” She pointed a finger at him. “Why do you always do this? Do you want me to just curl up and hide for the next week?”

  “I want you to stay alive!”

  “I’m going to stay alive.” She snatched the list from his hand. “You’re getting everything you wanted. You get me with you forever, in a bulletproof, fall-proof, car-proof body—”

  “Not fair,” he growled.

  “With cellulite!” She waved the list in his face. “So I get to have my list.”

  “Why are you talking about cellulite?” He put his hands on his hips, his eyes steely. “Just please do not go mountain climbing.”

  “Shove it.” She walked out the door and was relieved when he didn’t follow her.

  They were staying in the guest wing of the main house, Natalie and Baojia in one room, Sarah and Jake in the connecting room. It would be their room for the next year.

  Well, not her room. Her room was going to be in an isolated cabin in the middle of nowhere where she couldn’t see any of her human friends or family because she could easily lose control and kill them.

  So that sounded fun.

  Natalie turned the corner and nearly ran into Brigid Connor, Carwyn’s wife, who was wearing a leather jacket, black shoulder holsters, and ripped-up jeans.

  Yes. Perfect person.

  “Hi!” Natalie said.

  “Hello.” Brigid smiled politely.

  “Want to get a horse and ride into town so I can get a tattoo from a guy who tattoos people in his kitchen?”

  Brigid stared at her for a long time. “Feck yeah, that sounds like savage craic.”

  “I don’t know what that means, but you should definitely come along.”

  “Well done.” She put her hand on Natalie’s shoulder. “Let’s get the girls.”

  Chapter Six

  Baojia burst into the living room. “Where are they?”

  Lucien looked up from the book he was reading by the fire. “If you’re referring to our wives and partners, I believe they have all ridden into town to accompany your wife on her tattoo adventure.”

  He shook his head. This was what he got for being the responsible one who put the children to bed. Granted, it was his turn, but leave it to Natalie to take advantage of his absence to do something ridiculous.

  “Did you not want her to get one?” Carwyn looked over his shoulder. The children had decorated the Christmas tree just after sundown, but since they were all short, the upper level of the tree was more than a little naked. “I’d get one if I could. Wish it had been traditional when I was human.”

  Carwyn was redistributing ornaments from the lower three feet of the tree to the higher branches while Lucian and Giovanni read. Matt was browsing a picture album on the coffee table. Baojia walked over and helped Carwyn with the tree. “She’s just… impulsive. God knows what she’s going to get.”

  “It’s her body,” Giovanni said. “She’s the one who’ll have to live with it.”

  “Unless she gets it someplace she can’t see and he can.” Carwyn grinned. “That’d be an excellent joke.”

  “I really don’t agree,” Baojia muttered.

  Giovanni put down his book. “I have a feeling that Baojia is having a harder time with the idea of change than the actual tattoo.”

  He turned and looked at the collection of men around him. Giovanni looking superior. Carwyn looking up for anything. Matt, who appeared amused. And Lucien, an island of calm and reason.

  Baojia turned to Lucien. “She’s facing enormous changes, and I don’t think she realizes how much this is going to alter her life.”

  “Of course not,” he said. “How could she possibly understand that?”

  “But she has flatly refused to seek human treatment for the cancer.”

  Matt cleared his throat. “Baojia, why would she?”

  Carwyn walked around the tree and stood next to Baojia. The large man was an affectionate person, but he didn’t touch Baojia, which he appreciated.

  “It was always going to happen,” Carwyn said. “You’d both planned on it.”

  “Not this soon,” he said quietly. “Not when the children—”

  “They’ll miss her,” Giovanni said. “But in the long run, her changing now might be easier than when they’re older.”

  “How?” Baojia was trying not to lose his temper. “How will it possibly be easier?” All these men save for Matt had experienced exactly or nearly exactly what he was experiencing now—the transition of their wives or partners from human to immortal. “How is it easier now when the children are so young?”

  “Teenagers are complicated,” Giovanni said. “They get to a certain age and they think they’re allowed to have an opinion on everything.”

  A low grumble of agreement around the room.

  Matt said, “It’s already starting with Carina, and she’s not even ten.”

  “Really?” Baojia said.

  Carwyn looked at Giovanni. “Do you remember Caspar at that age?”

  Giovanni muttered something that sounded like a curse in Italian. “If I could have legally sent that boy away from the age of fourteen to twenty, I would have done it.”

  “That’s surprising,” Baojia said.

  “Not really.” Gustavo entered the room. “You’re talking about teenagers?”

  “Yes.”

  “Counting nieces, nephews, and all the ones that came after, I’ve had twenty-seven on the ranch.”

  Giovanni winced.

  “Trust me,” Gus said. “If there are any big family changes, it’s better to do them when the children are young. Much easier to distract. You and Natalie are doing the right thing.”

  “I am so glad I don’t have any children,” Lucien said quietly.

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” Carwyn said.

  “Hey!” Gus look at Carwyn with a grin. “What am I? Chopped liver?”

  “I got you when you were a grown man,” Carwyn said. “
I find that’s the ideal time to adopt children.”

  Baojia felt some of his nerves settle, but it was still hard to see a bright side through the tangle of the unknown. He’d been with Natalie for eight years. He knew who human Natalie was. He had studied her. He had made himself an expert.

  He knew what made her happy and what made her sad. He knew what sounds she loved and what scents she hated. He knew what food she craved and what drinks made her tipsy. He knew exactly where to touch her when he wanted to make her gasp.

  The Natalie that was coming, he knew nothing about. What would she be? Who would she be? Would she be as caring a mother? As nurturing? Would she see him in the same light?

  Would she love him? Would she love their family?

  He sat next to Lucien and stared at the fire in the stone hearth. “Change is difficult.”

  “But it’s necessary.” He put a hand on Baojia’s shoulder. “I have faith in both of you. You will make it through this. And when you do, you will find a connection that is even more than what you have now. A connection that is eternal.”

  He nodded. What could he do? Nothing. The only thing that was sure to cure his wife was immortality. And the only thing more frightening than Natalie changing was a world where she didn’t exist.

  Dez eyed the needle with trepidation. “Should I?”

  Beatrice, Brigid, and Natalie all cheered her on. “Yes!”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Do it. Do it. Do it.” The chant was from Natalie.

  Dez was sitting in the kitchen of the small house in the countryside, staring at the beautiful work on Natalie’s shoulder. “It’s really beautiful.”

  The man working in the small kitchen in the modest house was a true artist. He’d shown them page after page of photographs in several albums that convinced Natalie she was putting her eternal skin into good hands. She’d chosen something simple, and she loved it.

  Now Dez was feeling the urge.

  She turned to Makeda, the only person in the room who wasn’t cheering her on. “What do you think?”

  Makeda looked thoughtful. “I don’t think I know you well enough to have an opinion.”

  “That means you’re the perfect person to be objective.”

  Beatrice pointed at Makeda. “That’s an excellent point.”

  Natalie eased her shirt over her shoulder and turned to Dez. “If you found something you love, then you should do it. It doesn’t hurt that much.”

  Which was a lie. It hurt like hell, but Natalie wasn’t going to tell Dez that, or she’d wimp out.

  Beatrice chanted. “Do it. Do it. Do it.”

  “Come on,” Brigid said. “Don’t be a ninny.”

  “I don’t know you well,” Makeda said. “But I will say that one of my sisters has two tattoos. She got them several years ago, and she still loves both of them.”

  “What are they?”

  “Birds. She’s an avian biologist.”

  “Interesting,” Beatrice said. “I’m filing that away.”

  The poor tattoo artist looked tired.

  Natalie asked, “Do you have time tonight? We can always come back another night. It’s late.”

  The man asked, “You have cash?”

  “Yep,” Dez said.

  He shrugged. “Then I have time. I’ll make coffee.”

  He was unfazed by the late hour. It was nearly two in the morning, and it had taken about two hours to get from the ranch into town. Natalie caught Brigid checking the time regularly, making sure they didn’t cut it too close.

  “Do you like this?” Makeda pointed to a photograph of a poppy.

  “If he can make it orange, like a California poppy, it’d be perfect.” The poppy in the photograph was red.

  The artist asked, “Can someone show me a picture?”

  Natalie got her phone out and looked for a picture she’d taken last spring of the poppies. She showed it to the artist, who nodded and started to make up a sketch.

  “No problem,” he said. “I can make it that color.”

  “Tattoo is a go!” Beatrice said. “Yes!”

  Brigid, who’d been hanging out by the door, said, “Going to get more drinks. What’ll ya have?”

  “Beer.”

  “Gin and something.”

  “Whiskey.”

  “Water.”

  Brigid cocked her head at Makeda. “Water?”

  Makeda asked, “What’s wrong with water?”

  “Because we’re out with the girls,” Brigid said. “That’s what’s wrong with water. I’ll get you a whiskey.”

  “That’s really okay.”

  “Whiskey!” She looked at the tattoo artist. “Beer?”

  The man nodded. “Beer.”

  “I’ll be back.” She turned, then spun back. “You”—she pointed at Makeda—“come with me. I’ll need the extra hands.”

  Makeda rose from her chair. “I am more than happy to help.”

  The small town at the edge of the water was the gateway to the many national parks in the region as well as being a hub for ranchers and farmers who needed to trade. The town consisted of a clutch of houses, a church, a school, a general store with lots of camping equipment, and two different pubs. One of the pubs was called Gato Negro, the Black Cat, and the other was simply called Irish Pub, which amused Brigid to no end.

  Natalie, Beatrice, and Dez waited while the artist applied the stencil to Dez’s ankle. Within few moments, the tattoo needle had buzzed on and the artist had started the outline.

  “Oh, you bitch!” Dez spit out. “This hurts like a mother.”

  Natalie tried not to cackle. “It’ll be fine. I wonder if it hurts worse on the ankle?”

  “I bet it does,” Beatrice said.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You are both lying liars who lie.” Dez closed her eyes and hummed loudly. “Where’s my beer?”

  Over the next hour, the artist carefully outlined the small flower before he filled it in with vivid golden orange and began shading it. Green and orange were brilliant against Dez’s pale skin while the black and grey of Natalie’s new ink complemented her freckles.

  “You know,” Brigid said, peeking at Natalie’s ink again. “I’m quite happy you’re…” She glanced at the artist. “…taking the path you are. Not enough of our kind with freckles. Even in Ireland.”

  Natalie’s eyes went wide. “You don’t think…”

  “What?”

  “Do they fade? Do you think it’s like… a side effect?”

  Brigid wrinkled her nose. “Oh, that’d be horrible, wouldn’t it? But no! My fine man has plenty of freckles, just not on his nose like you. So they mustn’t fade.”

  That was a relief. Natalie had hated her freckles as a child, but she’d grown to love them, especially after Sarah was born. Baojia called them her personal constellations. Speaking of constellations…

  “Are the skies clearing up?” Natalie asked.

  “Yes,” Makeda said, finishing her second beer. She’d drunk the whiskey and asked for another, but then switched to beer when the pub had closed down. “I can see the stars. And the Southern Cross! That’s lovely.”

  The artist was finishing up Dez’s tattoo, Brigid had stocked up on beers for the ride home, but the night was getting shorter and shorter. The skies had threatened rain on the way into town, but the women had soldiered on, unwilling to let a little rain get in the way of their girls’ night out. Natalie was relieved to know they wouldn’t get rained on as they made their way back to the valley once the tattoos were done.

  “Do you think we’ll be able to do this again?” Natalie asked.

  “Tell you what,” Brigid said. “I will commit to a year from now, dragging my reluctant arse onto a giant ship—because you know I hate sea travel—and making my way down here to do this again.” She lifted her beer. “Though maybe without the tattoos. Is everyone in?”

  “I am in,” Makeda said. “Also, Lucien will be here for the full year, so I’ll likely be i
n the area as often as possible.”

  Natalie’s mouth fell open. “Really? He’s planning on the whole year?”

  Makeda cocked her head. “Of course. He wouldn’t dream of leaving you.”

  “But Baojia—”

  “It’s not…” Makeda glanced at the artist. “It’s not the same. You’ll need both of them. I would have been lost without Kato, and even with him, I still missed Baojia terribly. Plus I want to be there for Sarah and Jake. I’ll have to go back to California periodically, but as long as I can manage, I’ll be here with you.”

  Natalie’s buzz was turning melancholy just as the artist was wrapping up Dez’s poppy.

  “I love you guys so much.” She sniffed and took another long drink of beer. “I just can’t imagine doing this alone.”

  Beatrice took care of paying the tattoo artist while the rest of them made their way out to the street and to one of the many hitching posts in town. Since roads were hit and miss, they weren’t the only people riding. Though they’d seen quad bikes a few places, horses seemed to be far more popular with the locals.

  They mounted up—Dez needing the most help between the new tattoo and half a dozen beers—and headed back toward the end of the road and the forest path that would lead them back to the ranch.

  Natalie was starting to get more and more comfortable on the horse. She nudged her mare up to Beatrice and bumped her shoulder. “Howdy, partner.”

  “Howdy yourself.” Beatrice grinned. “How you feeling?”

  “I am going to have the queen bitch of headaches tomorrow, and I don’t even care.”

  Beatrice laughed. “Good. Make sure you take aspirin before you go to bed.”

  “Baojia is pissed at me,” Natalie said. “And I don’t get why. I mean… he wanted this. For years he’s worried about me every”—she let out a little burp—“every time I even left the house, you know? I would have done it years ago, but he wanted to wait. And now… Do you think he doesn’t really want to be with me forever? I mean… that’s a really lucking… fong time. You know what I mean.”

  Beatrice put a hand on her shoulder to steady her. “Don’t even think that way. He’s just not a man who likes change. You know this.”