Kiera Hudson & The Adoring Artist (Kiera Hudson Series Three Book 3)

by Tim O'Rourke

  “Liar,” I snarled.

  Potter pushed me back again.

  But the wolf came forward. Did she believe that I was under attack? Had she come forward only to protect me? I shot forward, claws out, and I buried them deep into Potter’s throat. His blood splashed my face in hot streaks. And like a dog that had bitten its master, I immediately cowered away.

  “What have I done?” I cried out.

  Potter staggered forward, blood gushing from the gaping wound I had made. Blood jetted from his mouth as he tried to speak. With his claws shaking uncontrollably, he put them to his throat. He fell forward and I caught him in my arms.

  “No, no, no!” I cried out. “Please… I’m sorry sorry…. I never meant to hurt you.”

  Cradling Potter to my chest, I lowered him to the floor. He looked blankly up at me. “Potter!” I screamed, tears running from my catlike eyes. I shook him over and over. I took one of his claws in mine. I brought it up against my face. “Please wake up,” I sobbed. “Please, I beg you.” I let go of his claw and it dropped lifelessly away. “You were right about Nev, I was wrong to want to have saved him. I should’ve listened to you. I promise that if you wake up, I’ll never argue with you again. Please, Potter. Please open your eyes.”

  But he didn’t. I knew Potter was dead and there was nothing I could do to save him. No bite from me or anything would save him now. Just like me, Potter had already been one of the undead – he couldn’t be reborn again in this where and when.

  “I’m sorry!” I howled, the sound of my cries leaving the cave and floating away on the wind out across the valley.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I pushed the wolf back. I drove it to the furthest corners of my mind. I tried to convince myself that it had been the wolf that had killed Potter and not me. But it mattered little who was to blame, he was still dead. I felt the wolf retreat back like a dog who knew that its master was angry with it. And as it did, I watched my claws that cradled Potter close to me change back to their human-looking form. I felt my face change too, that almost feline look being replaced by my own eyes and nose.

  It was still dark outside and the wind crept through the valley and blew about the entrance to the cave. For how long I sat leant against the wall, Potter dead in my lap, I had no idea. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t know even if I could. But I had to. Both Nev and Potter had to be buried – I had to find them someplace to rest. I had failed both of them – it was the very least I could do. Then what? Return to Hallowed Manor and tell Murphy that his best friend was dead – that I’d ripped his throat out – ripped it out while masquerading as a wolf. I would be dead for sure. But did I deserve anything less for what I had done? At this precise moment, death seemed like a preferable option than to face life alone in this layer where my friends didn’t know me – didn’t love and care for me like I loved and cared for them. But I loved Potter – loved him more than I’d ever loved anyone before or ever would again. And it was because of the deep and unrelenting love that I had for Potter and my friends that I was in this layer – in this nightmare. Because it didn’t matter how much I tried to kid myself that I was happy, I wasn’t. How could I ever be happy without Potter and my friends in my life? And not just faint reflections of them – but my true friends and the man I loved. How my heart ached for them – how I just wanted to curl up and die. What was the point in carrying on? For someone who believed that I saw so much – I was blind and always had been. I was only what I am because of Potter and my friends, it was their love and friendship that completed me – made me whole – and without them I was nothing more than an empty husk – I was nothing. With tears streaming down my face, I cradled Potter to me, and I didn’t care if the Elders felt my sadness. I didn’t care if they felt it wash through the layers. I didn’t care if they sucked it up and it made them whole again. I wanted them to come and take me. I wanted the Elders to turn me to stone just like that statue in Snake Weed. If my heart was made of stone, perhaps it would stop aching – perhaps it wouldn’t be able to break ever again.

  Carefully, I rolled Potter’s lifeless body from my lap, placing him on the ground next to Nev. I would bury them both, then return to Hallowed Manor and hand myself over to The Creeping Men. My fate would lie in their hands. I’d had enough. I was finished. I was done with it all. I wanted the burden of the Vampyrus and the Lycanthrope lifted from me. I didn’t want to be Kiera Hudson anymore. I wanted to be like any other young woman. I wanted to live, love, and die. I didn’t want the nightmare that was my life anymore – not without Potter. Not without the real Potter in my life. The man I had seen staring back at me from the fountain. If he was truly lost to me – then I truly was lost and we would never find our way back to each other.

  I heaved Nev’s lifeless body onto my shoulder. Bent double at the waist, I carried him from the cave and into the valley. Moonlight shone off the bloody remains of the wolves Potter and I had battled with. I stepped over their torn and tattered bodies and I looked away. I couldn’t bear to see any more death. It had stared me in the face for too long. With my hoodie blowing about the sides of my face in the nagging wind, I found a grassy spot at the foot of the hill. Dropping to my knees, I rolled Nev onto the ground beside me. Bringing the Vampyrus forward in my mind, I raised my claws, then began to dig Nev’s grave. With the moon shining bright above me in a sky that was filled with more stars than I had ever seen, I clawed and dug away at the earth.

  With my arms and back aching, I stood up and looked down into the shallow grave I’d dug. With fresh tears building, I rolled Nev into it. He lay looking up at me. Very carefully, I placed my claws over his eyes and let his lids slide shut.

  “I’m so sorry, Nev,” I sobbed. “You were never meant to have been a part of this, and I am sorry you were. I didn’t know you for very long, but you were a good friend to me. You made me feel special when I felt at my worst. You made me laugh, even though my heart was breaking inside. I’m sorry.”

  Unable to look upon his dead face for one second more, I covered it with earth. Cupping my hands, I scooped up more and more of the earth. I didn’t stop showering it over his face until it was completely hidden from me. I then filled in the rest of the grave as quickly as I could. Not because I didn’t care, but because I did. It hurt too much to look upon him lying dead beneath the moon.

  On my hands and knees, I gathered together enough rocks so as to cover the earth that now rose out of the ground in a long, narrow mound. With Nev buried, I turned away, shoulders hitching up and down as I sobbed uncontrollably. I tried to sniff back my tears, but it seemed impossible. But it wasn’t just Nev I cried for, but because I knew what it was I had to do next. If burying my friend Nev had been painful enough, how, then, would I feel when I dug Potter’s grave? I knew it would be utter agony. But however much to do so would tear my soul apart, I knew there was no backing away from it. I couldn’t leave Potter’s body lying uncovered in some abandoned cave for wild animals to pick at and feed on. I would have to find some way to bear the pain.

  With my hood pulled up and body bent double against the wind that now screamed through the valley, I made my way back to the cave. I lingered at the entrance as I drew in several deep breaths. I was desperate to try and regain some kind of control over my emotions before I started what I had to find the strength to finish. Standing straight and wringing my hands in my lap, I stepped into the cave. Potter still lay where I left him, his naked chest covered black with the blood that had gushed from the wound I had made in his throat. One arm was stretched out. Carefully, I took hold of his hand and draped his arm over his chest. I did the same with the other. On my knees, I slid one arm beneath his cold and stiff back, the other beneath his legs. As I was about to lift him, I heard the sudden sound of a wolf howl. Glancing back, I lost my grip on Potter’s corpse at the sight of the wolf now standing in the mouth of the cave.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The wolf’s coat of thick, white fur shimmered in dazzling shafts f
rom the moonlight in the night sky. The wolf looked at me, eyes burning orange. It was the wolf I’d seen on the hillside as I’d fought the Lycanthrope side by side with Potter. It came slowly into the cave, eyes never leaving mine. Was this the white wolf that Potter had spoken of? Was this the ghost of the Lycanthrope’s Queen, Lilly Blu? And if it was, had she come to kill me just like I had killed so many of her kind who now lay dead in the valley?

  “Lilly?” I whispered, taking another step back as the huge and imposing wolf came closer still.

  The wolf didn’t make a sound, but just kept my gaze. If it truly was Lilly Blu, did she know me in this where and when? Did she recognise me?

  “Are you Lilly Blu?” I dared to whisper again. “Are you the Queen of the Lycanthrope?”

  The wolf’s orange eyes suddenly narrowed into slits. Was it smiling at me, or preparing to attack and avenge the death of the wolves that lay strewn in a bloody mess outside of the cave? Then, opening its jaws, the wolf lunged for one of Potter’s outstretched legs.

  “No!” Get back!” I shouted. “Leave him alone. He’s dead already. He is no threat to you.”

  Lifting its colossal head, the wolf barked twice at me. The sound was so loud and terrifying, I staggered backwards and away from where Potter lay dead on the floor. From the back of the cave, I watched the wolf lower its head once more. It closed its mighty jaws around one of Potter’s ankles, sinking its teeth into the hem of his jeans. The wolf then tugged on it, dragging Potter’s body back toward the mouth of the cave. When it was just inches from the opening, the creature let go of Potter’s leg and looked back at me. The wolf gave two short barks. I watched as the creature then nudged Potter with its snout. It looked at me again and barked. Then with one speedy swish of its bushy tail, it turned and left the cave.

  Stepping from the shadows, I came forward. I stopped at the entrance where Potter lay at my feet. The wolf was someway away now in the distance. It looked back at me and howled before setting off again. Did the wolf – Lilly – want me to follow her? Did she want me to bring Potter? Was that why she had dragged him toward the entrance of the cave? I heard the wolf howl again. Looking up, I could see that the creature had stopped further along the valley.

  “Should I bring Potter – is that what you want me to do?” I called out into the night.

  The wolf nodded its giant head back at me before turning and bounding away into the dark. Bending at the knees, I dragged Potter up into my arms, then onto my shoulders. Slowly, I staggered forward into the valley and in pursuit of the wolf. If it was indeed the white wolf Potter had spoken of, why did it want me to follow it with his lifeless body? Was she leading me into some kind of trap? Was she ensnaring me back to where other Lycanthrope hid in their secret lair so they could feast on his corpse? Did they plan to gorge themselves on the man who had caused them so much pain? But if it was Lilly Blu who was leading me away from the cave and deeper into the valley, couldn’t I trust her? Hadn’t we once been friends? But this was a different where and when from the one I’d pushed her from. This where and when was where the man she had once loved had murdered her and scattered her remains on un-sacred ground.

  Hearing the wolf howl, I looked up to see that it had stopped in the distance again. Seeing that it had my attention, it turned and bounded away – long, white tail like a beacon leading me into the night. What other choice did I have than to follow the white wolf – whether it was Lilly Blu or not? I staggered on, Potter’s dead body draped over my shoulder as I carried him deeper into the valley beneath the star-shot night. The valley seemed to cut its way across the country for miles and miles. The night seemed to last forever. There seemed to be no end to either. Each time I slowed, or my legs faltered beneath the weight of Potter’s dead body, the wolf would bark and howl at me – as if urging me on. I limbered on, hood up against the chill wind that whipped through the vast valley. I still had no idea where the wolf was leading me or why. If it was some trap, then let me step into it sooner rather than later. My body had begun to grow weak, and so had my spirit. Was this my punishment for killing Potter? To carry his corpse through a never-ending valley and a never-ending night until my soul was broken? Was I being tortured by the Elders for deceiving them? Was there no end to my torment? Did their wickedness have no end? But still I trudged on, bent forward, my back, legs, and arms numb with pain.

  I heard the wolf howl again over the roar of the wind. With my lips cracked with thirst, I looked up and peered out from beneath my half-open eyes. The wolf had stopped just ahead, and so had the valley. I glanced up at the mountainous wall of rock that towered above me in the moonlight. Before it stood a small shack made of wood. There was a door and it was open. The wolf trotted toward it, then sat on its hindquarters and looked at me with its fiery eyes. The wolf barked twice at me, then looked at the open doorway.

  Did it want me to carry Potter into the dilapidated-looking shack? Why? What was in there?

  The wolf released two short snappy barks at me, then looked back at the open doorway. I staggered forward. Each step, now feeling like I was lifting one hundred ton weights. Biting into my cracked and flaky bottom lip, I put one shaky foot in front of the other as I headed slowly toward the shack. At the entrance, the wolf barked again. I glanced sideways into its seething eyes. They narrowed into slits again. Looking away, I carried Potter into the shack.

  There was a hole in the slatted roof. A bright blue beam of moonlight poured in through the hole, casting a pool of light on the floor in the centre of the shack. I glanced back at the wolf that now stood in the open doorway. It nodded its head twice slowly up and down. With my knee joints popping, I knelt down, lowering Potter into the shaft of moonlight. I looked back at the wolf as it turned and headed away from the door of the shack. It stopped some feet away and looked back at me. The wolf barked just once. I glanced down one last time at Potter’s body.

  “I love you,” I whispered, before leaving him behind in the shack.

  The giant white wolf came forward, closing the door of the shack with its snout. With the beast at my side, I walked away from the shack. I hadn’t gone very far, when the wolf stopped, turned to face the shack once more, then lowered itself onto the floor of the valley. It stretched out, resting its head on its paws as it stared back at the shack. The creature glanced up at me, then away again. With my body sapped of strength, I dropped to the ground and sat next to the wolf. I followed its stare as it kept its eyes fixed on the shack. I reached for the wolf, lowering one of my hands into its fur. It made a soft and easy howl deep in the back of its throat. Now that I had stopped moving, I felt a sudden wave of tiredness wash over me. The urge to just lie back next to the wolf and let sleep take me was overwhelming. Just as my eyelids began to weaken and slide shut, the door to the shack suddenly flew open.

  With my eyes now wide, I watched Potter stagger from the open doorway. The wound I had made in his throat was now gone, as was the blood that had streaked his chest. I glanced sideways at the wolf – at Lilly – but the spot where she had lain just moments ago was now empty. The white wolf had gone.

  Dragging myself to my feet and not knowing if I were lost in some kind of dream, I watched Potter lurch like a drunk from out of the shack.

  “Kiera,” he smiled.

  With one arm outstretched as if reaching for me, he clawed at the air, before collapsing to the ground.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Potter

  No sooner had the words, “I think we’re in deep shit,” escaped from my mouth, things started to change.

  I hovered just above the ground with Murphy, Meren, and Isidor and watched the hundreds and hundreds of Vampyrus flock toward us. It was then I realised the thunder that had roared ever since I’d come back through the cracks with Kayla had now stopped.

  “Do you hear that?” I asked Murphy.

  “Hear what?” he growled, his eyes focused on the approaching Vampyrus.

  “Thunder,” I said.

  “I can’
t hear any,” Meren said.

  “Me neither,” added Isidor.

  “Exactly!” I said.

  “What the fuck?” Murphy muttered, as if to himself.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Look at the cracks!” Meren yelled, pointing up at the sky.

  We glanced up, and to my amazement, the cracks were closing. They were pulling back together. But that wasn’t the only change. With the flock of Vampyrus just feet away, they started to fly upwards – or to be more accurate – they were being drawn upwards – toward the cracks that were closing fast. The Vampyrus tried to fight against it, but however much they kicked and thrashed their mighty black wings about, they were being sucked through the cracks and into what I suspected was oblivion waiting on the other side for them.

  “What’s happening?” Meren gasped, her wings buzzing excitedly on either side of her.

  “Kayla, that’s what’s happening,” I yelled in triumph. “Kayla did it. She fucking did it!” I punched my fist into the air over and over.

  “How can you be so sure?” Meren said, sounding like she wanted to believe what I said was true.

  “Because the cracks are closing and the Vampyrus are disappearing,” Isidor said, as if the penny was slowly dropping for him. “She must have killed Luke.”

  “Hoo-fucking-rah!” Murphy roared with delight, back-flipping through the air and spreading his wings.

  “Be careful, old man!” I laughed. “You’ll do yourself an injury!”

  “Look, there goes the last of them!” Meren hollered, pointing up at the cracks.

  Together, we watched the last of the Vampyrus get dragged beyond the cracks. With grins spread across our faces, we swooped through the air, the four of us coming together and wrapping our arms tight about each other.

  “Kayla, you fucking beauty!” I roared with delight as the cracks continued to close, healing the sky once again above us. “Kayla, you did it!”