Asher

by T. S. Joyce

  “Ashlyn gets shotgun,” Asher said.

  “I swear to God, Asher, if I have to see you two holding hands the whole way to Odine’s, I’m going to barf.”

  Asher was gently guiding Ashlyn to the passenger’s side door now as all four of the others scrambled into the back seat. “Payback’s a bitch, Roman. I’ve watched all of you sucking face for weeks. If I have the urge to touch her, I’m going to do it.”

  Inside the truck, Roman looked disgusted. “Ew. Don’t use the words ‘urge’ and ‘do it’ like that. It’s weird.”

  “You say stupid shit all the time, and I don’t call you out,” Asher said.

  He seemed to be waiting for Ashlyn to buckle, so she snapped it into place and gave him a big, bright grin. Then she puckered her lips like a fish and said, “Suck face with me.”

  Asher cast a quick glance to the seat behind her, then licked his lips and pecked her quick. Roman made yacking sounds behind them, Mila giggled, Blaire said, “Aaaaw!” like she was watching a cheesy movie, and Gentry had apparently been shocked senseless because he wasn’t even moving, just gawking with the biggest bright green eyes Ashlyn had ever seen.

  She couldn’t help the peel of giggles that burst out of her mouth as Asher shut the door and jogged around the front of the truck, scrubbing his hand down his face as he went.

  Was he blushing? It was hard to tell behind his beard. Ashlyn hoped so.

  The drive to Odine’s was gently winding roads and snowy woods that looked like they belonged on a post card. “It’s so beautiful here,” she murmured to no one in particular.

  “I’ll never be used to it,” Blaire said in an equally awed tone from where she sat on Gentry’s lap in the back.

  “I get tired of the snow sometimes,” Mila admitted from where she sat in the middle seat between Roman and Gentry. “Sometimes I want to visit somewhere warm when it’s like this.”

  “Fly south for the winter,” Ashlyn murmured.

  “Yeah. Not all winter, just…for a break.” There was a frown in Mila’s voice when she asked, “What are you doing?”

  Ashlyn turned in her seat to see Roman typing on his phone. “Planning a vacation for us.”

  “Really?” Mila asked excitedly.

  “Hell, yeah. Let’s go to the ocean. I want to ravish you in a bathing suit.”

  “Dude, don’t say ‘ravish,’” Gentry muttered. “And wait on a vacation. We haven’t even opened Winter’s Edge yet, and Mila is our bar manager.”

  “Fuck off, Gentry. Mila’s been trapped in Rangeley her whole life. If my lady wants a warm getaway, we’re gonna go get buck wild, do it missionary-style on a public beach, and get sand in our cracks.”

  Mila bounced in the seat clapping as she chanted, “Sand in our cracks, sand in our cracks!”

  “Pina coladas,” Roman drawled. “Do you want a beach view?”

  “Yes! Wait, how will this work with…you know…the Bone-Rippers?”

  “Mila!” Gentry reprimanded her, then jerked his chin toward Ashlyn.

  “Fuck the Bone-Rippers,” Asher said, turning onto a one-lane road in the woods that was just a couple tire marks in the snow. “Mila deserves a break.”

  “Asher,” Mila said, “maybe you should take them. You’re scary enough to control them.”

  “Everyone stop talking! Rules!” Gentry gritted out.

  “Says the guy who boinked a human,” Roman muttered, still typing away on his phone.

  Gentry looked pissed, buried his face against Blaire’s back, and yelled against her shirt.

  “Ashlyn, this is all a dream, and you won’t remember any of this conversation tomorrow,” Blaire said. But she was smiling. “I know you’re the best with secrets. Ashlyn Michelle Jenkins, do you solemnly swear to keep everything you hear in this car and in this town a secret until you go to your grave, and then when you turn into a ghost, you have to keep the secrets from any ghost friends you make, too. Consequences—”

  “Make ’em bad, Blaire, or I might slip up,” Ashlyn said through a grin.

  “If you spill a single secret, may your vagina stay as dry as the desert, and may you get an eyelash in your eyeball every single day for the rest of your life, and may wine taste like sewer water, and may you grow an allergy to cookies and pie and cake.” Blaire stuck both pinkies out and canted her head, one delicate red eyebrow arched high.

  Ashlyn pretended to think about it, but then squeaked in delight and hooked her pinkies with Blaire’s. Together, they performed their synchronized weird handshake that they’d practiced for a month of lunches in the break room at work.

  “Okay, Gentry. The pact is done,” Blaire said. “It is now impossible for Ashlyn to tell a single soul.”

  When she looked at Asher, he was smiling and shaking his head, and easily, as if he’d been touching her his whole life, he slid his big hand over her thigh and squeezed her comfortingly.

  “I like you,” she said to him softly, because he should know how mushy he made her. “You don’t have to say it back, though,” she said, repeating his words from last night coyly as she turned up the radio like he sometimes did when he didn’t want to talk.

  “Ashlyn Michelle Jenkin’s,” Asher rumbled.

  Whooo, it was sexy the way he said her full name. She felt as drunk as a skunk after watching his lips curl around the words. Each syllable belonged to her, but Asher had just owned them. Whoa, she wanted to buck—and by buck, she meant fuck—right now.

  “Yes?” she asked in a tiny voice.

  “I like you, too.”

  Ashlyn’s cheeks were on fire with pleasure as she threw her arms around her middle and stomped her feet to try and control the swarm of butterflies in her belly.

  “Oh, my God, that was the cutest, sweetest thing I’ve ever heard from Asher!” Blaire exclaimed. “You two are so freaking cuuute!”

  “Watch out!” Roman yelled suddenly.

  Asher jerked his gaze back to the road and slammed on his breaks so hard the truck swung sideways and rocked to a stop.

  Ashlyn didn’t see anything, but Asher looked horrified as he stared out her window at the woods.

  “Well, that’s new,” Gentry muttered.

  “Does everyone else see the ravens?” Blaire asked in a small voice.

  “Smells like black magic,” Mila said so softly Ashlyn barely heard her. “Odine’s been casting spells again in her woods. I see the ravens, too. Their eyes are bleeding, and the snow is soaked in red.”

  “Nope, not what I see,” Roman said. “The woods are filled with ghosts, and I’m staring at Asher, age twenty right now. And the ghosts in these woods? They’re all of us, Ashlyn included.”

  “That’s what I see, too,” Gentry said softly. “Is this real?”

  Desperately, Ashlyn scanned the woods but saw nothing but a beautiful snowscape. “Show me,” she whispered to Asher.

  “Ash,” he warned. “Some things are better left unseen.”

  “I told you already I want my eyes wide open on this. Show me.”

  Power hummed through his hand to her thigh, and her body tingled for a few moments before the scene before her transformed into one of horrors.

  It was springtime, but there were no trees. They were all laid flat on the earth, dry with craggy branches. The sky was black with flocks of circling ravens, and in the middle of the clearing, Asher stood with his hands out, palms up, head thrown back, eyes closed to the sky. Black fog churned all around him. The ground turned from green grasses and colorful wildflowers to silver ashes as the fog brought the sustenance back into Asher’s body.

  The graying landscape rotted away and stretched as far as the eye could see. He was eating everything up.

  All around him stood transparent beings. Some, to her terror, she recognized. She and Blaire and Mila were holding hands, staring at Asher with haunted eyes. And Roman and Gentry stood just behind them, flanking them, looking sad. The rest were strangers, but they numbered in the hundreds.

  “You wanted
your eyes open on this,” Asher murmured low. “Gentry asked if this was real. The ghosts are a product of what Odine has done to these woods. They aren’t real, but what you see of me, devouring the earth…that is a memory, not a twisted figment of your imagination. It was real. I’d been hurt badly in a wolf fight with another rogue over territory. I needed the energy from other living things so that I could live. Ashlyn Michelle Jenkins…meet The Taker.”

  Chills blasted up her spine so hard and so fast her shoulders shook with them. Oh, she’d met The Taker last night. It had danced harmlessly with her blue mist, but it hadn’t been intent on hurting her. And now, watching it ruin the earth made her aware of how dangerous he was.

  But this was Asher. The one who had been quiet, respectful, watchful, and caring. The one who had bought her four dozen cinnamon rolls and a sweet drink he would’ve scoffed at just to make her happy. The one who touched her body and soul so gently he made her heart race and her breath quicken. The one who made her feel safe, even if he held great danger inside of him. The one who made her feel alive.

  Ashlyn slid her hand into his and inhaled deeply as she looked at him. “Okay,” she murmured.

  “Ashlyn,” Blaire said softly, as if she was weak and pitiful and didn’t know what she was getting herself into.

  Ashlyn held Asher’s gaze when she said, “I wanted to know, and now I do. It’s my choice whether to stay in this or not.”

  “And?” Asher asked.

  “Take me to meet Odine.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Odine’s home was a small cabin in the middle of the wilderness. Fresh snow covered the roof and the pile of firewood stacked along the front of the house. Curls of smoke spilled out of the stone chimney. The house would look downright cozy if not for the strange markings etched into the trees and the four bird skulls hanging from a post out front.

  “So Odine is a…”

  “Witch,” Asher answered at the same time Gentry said, “demon,” and Roman muttered, “psychopath.”

  “And how do you all know her?” Ashlyn asked as the truck rocked to a stop in the front yard.

  “She was banging our dad before he died. Probably the reason he got killed,” Roman said darkly. “Don’t piss her off. That woman can break you with little effort.”

  Yikes. Wringing her hands, she let off a nervous laugh and scrunched up her face at Asher.

  He chuckled and promised, “I’ll keep you safe. My Taker is bigger and meaner than hers.”

  Asher shoved his door open and got out, but Roman piped up. “Wait, what does The Taker mean?”

  “You’ll see,” Asher called as he shut the door behind him.

  Ashlyn was halfway to slipping out of his big-ass truck and into the snow, but Asher appeared suddenly and grabbed her waist, steadying her.

  “Gentleman,” she accused.

  “Gentlemonster,” he corrected her.

  “Hmmm,” she hummed happily, sliding her arms around his waist. “I like that you don’t hide from me.”

  Asher shrugged nonchalantly and massaged the back of her neck as he hugged her. “If you became overwhelmed, I would just take that memory.”

  “You better not mess with my memories ever, Asher. I would be pissed.”

  “But you wouldn’t know to be pissed because you wouldn’t remember why you were supposed to be pissed,” Roman said as he stomped by. “Still want the fealty of a lunatic, Ashlyn? P. S. I fucking hate this place. It stinks like black magic and bad stuff happens here. Whose stupid idea was it to visit Psychodine when we were supposed to be eating fried chicken and gravy right now?” He tossed Asher a hate-filled look and muttered, “And I’m still mad that you forced us into the car. That alpha shit’s messed up.”

  “Would you like it better if I bossed you around?” Mila asked, taking his hand as they walked toward the cabin.

  “Yes, but that’s different. You give me blow jobs.”

  “God, Roman,” Blaire muttered from where she walked next to Gentry behind Ashlyn and Asher.

  Ashlyn was trying to contain her smile, really she was, because meeting Odine had her a little scared right now, but the rapport of this group of smarmy weirdos was downright amusing. They were her kind of people.

  The door to the cabin swung open, but no one was there. When it banged against the wall, Ashlyn jumped at the sound. Asher didn’t allow her to hesitate, though. He pulled her by the hand up the steps and inside of the small home. It smelled bad. Like herbs and the dried plants that hung in clusters from the exposed rafters on the ceiling, yes, but also like something had died in here.

  “Lots of somethings,” Asher murmured, casting her an emotionless glance.

  She would never get used to him being in her head. Never.

  “Then don’t think so loudly, Ash. I’m trying to stay out.”

  “Am I missing something?” Roman asked. “There is a very one-sided conversation going on here, and I can see the ghosts, Asher. You aren’t talkin’ to them.”

  “Odine,” Asher called, ignoring his brother.

  “Down here,” came a muffled answer.

  Asher led them along a short hallway and down a set of rickety stairs into a basement. The walls were lined with aged books covered in dust. In the center of the room was a long table covered in plants, old books, disorganized piles of notes, dirt, animal skulls, and one brown rat, that crept among the mess, sniffing and twitching its whiskers.

  Ashlyn wasn’t a fan of rodents, so she kept carefully hidden behind Asher.

  Dust motes swirled in the sunrays that streamed through a small, soiled window near the top of the wall. When a woman stepped out of the shadows and into the sunrays, Ashlyn gasped. She was older, but beautiful, with dark eyes, olive-toned skin, and jet black hair streaked with silver. There was a familiarity to the set of her eyes. They slanted upward slightly, just like Asher’s.

  “You’ve brought them here to call me out,” Odine murmured. She sounded unhappy as she leveled Asher with a glare.

  “It’s time.”

  “Maybe.” Odine lifted a gnarled finger to Ashlyn. “It’s never time for you to bring that one to me, though.”

  Asher slipped his hand around Ashlyn’s and pulled her forward. “Have you seen her for me?”

  Odine didn’t answer, but instead her eyes sparked with a fire Ashlyn didn’t understand. After a loaded minute, she admitted, “I have had visions for all my sons. Ashlyn is the one I didn’t want. She’s the one I’ll do anything to stop.”

  “Wait,” Gentry said, stepping forward from where he’d been leaning against the wall near Blaire. “Your sons?”

  Odine flicked her fingers and a book fell open on the table. A rectangle had been cut from the texts, and nestled inside was a stack of pictures.

  Roman was closest and took the picture from the top of the pile, studied it for a moment, then muttered a curse and replaced it. He backed away, looking shocked, running his hands through his hair as Mila followed him, hands out. “Babe,” she whispered.

  “No way, no fuckin’ way,” Roman said, his eyes brimming with emotion. “We had a mother, and she died.”

  “Roman,” Odine said in a breaking voice as she stepped closer.

  “Don’t you take another fucking step!”

  Gentry was looking through the photos now, shaking his head. From his profile, Ashlyn could see the exact second a drop of water dripped from his chin. “You weren’t there.”

  “I was always there.”

  “You weren’t there!” Gentry yelled, rounding on her. “You weren’t. When we needed a fucking mother, where were you? Why weren’t you helping dad raise us? Why were you letting him favor me? Why were you letting him treat Asher and Roman like shit? Where were you when they were kicked out of the pack? Where were you when I was left here all alone?”

  Blaire was crying now, rubbing his back, right between his shoulder blades.

  “I was human,” Odine whispered. Her eyes were rimmed with tears that spilled over. �
�And not just human, but a witch. And I’d given awful powers to you boys when I had you. Your father and I could tell right away that you were tainted with my darkness. Asher most of all. I had to do something to give you a better life.”

  “A better life than one raised by our own mother?” Roman asked. His blazing blue eyes morphed to gold as a tear spilled onto his cheek. He twitched his face fast and wiped his cheek on his shoulder. “Do you know how hard it was growing up without you?”

  “Yes!” Odine yelled. “I was suffering, too! But Asher would’ve been devoured by the darkness inside of him within two years. Roman, you and Gentry would’ve lasted longer, but not by much. I wanted a better life for you, so I gave you wolves, like your father had. And I gave him my blessing to take you into the bosom of a pack he created, one specifically made to support strong, dominant, troubled wolves, so you could be steady, control your powers, and have a goddamn shot at happiness. Because I love you three. More than anything! And that’s all I ever wanted was for you to be happy. I’d ruined that by being your mother and giving you darkness. So I gave you the wolves to make you stronger, and I let you go, and it ripped my goddamn heart out every day to be separated from you, but I couldn’t be a part of that pack with you. Because I’m fucking human, and as much as I tried, and God knows I tried, I couldn’t raise a wolf within me.” Odine’s shoulders hunched and tears dripped from her chin. “I saw Mila for you, Roman, and so I kept her here, so you could be happy together. I watched her grow up from afar, and she felt like the daughter of my heart. I saw Blaire for you, Gentry, a white wolf, beautiful, pure, steady, kind, all the things you deserved, and so I waited for her to be ready, for you to be ready, and I brought her here knowing she would be bitten and I would have to raise her wolf. And I would do it again because I see you smile now. It’s the same smile I adored when you were a boy, when you hugged me, or listened to my bedtime stories, or ran around the yard with your brothers.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Roman yelled.

  “Because I just got you back! You didn’t know you were half human. You didn’t know you had witches peppered throughout your lineage. You weren’t ready to hear it!”