Cat's Quill

by Anne Barwell

  "And?" Tomas knew that snatching the notepad at this point would not win him any extra Brownie points. As much as his friends wanted to help, he'd been very difficult to live with the past few days, and he knew it. The few social skills he had tended to disappear very quickly with lack of sleep and tunnel vision. The feeling he'd had of running out of time since Cathal had disappeared only served to make his personality failings worse.

  He stopped, taking a gulp of coffee, freezing suddenly as his thoughts caught up with him. He did think of them as friends, and good ones at that. When had that happened? If they weren't, they wouldn't have put up with the crap he'd been dishing out the past few days, that was for sure.

  "He thinks it must have been contaminated," Donovan explained, "but I'm not so sure." His cup still grasped firmly in one hand, he scanned the notes he'd made. "Apparently for the most part, it's perfectly normal...."

  "But," Heidi prompted, her voice calmer than either of theirs but the redness around her eyes a telltale sign that she was just as tired and worried as they were.

  "There's a couple of other things in there they can't identify, shit they've never seen before." Donovan shook his head.

  "Are you trying to say he's not human?" Tomas bit off a rude comment about small-town doctors and their lack of resources, remembering in time that the sample had also been sent farther afield.

  "No." Donovan's eyes ran down his pad. "He didn't say that, just that there's crap there they don't recognize. The only explanation he could come up with for it is that the sample must have been contaminated."

  "What about the fact that everything we've found out suggests that he comes from another world?" Heidi said slowly, her expression thoughtful. "Wouldn't there be antibodies from there that aren't here? I don't know much about this kind of thing, but could that show up in the blood tests?"

  "He's human," Tomas insisted. "More so than a lot of people I've ever met." The very thought that Cathal might not be was ridiculous.

  Donovan held up his hand. "Hold up, Tomas. I'm sure I just said the doc didn't say he wasn't." He tapped the end of his pencil on the table a couple of times. "People develop different immunities depending on where they live, and that kind of thing shows up in their bloodstream. Heidi's theory has a hell of a lot going for it."

  "I'm part of this investigation for good reason," she reminded them a little too smugly, although the expression faded quickly as another realization hit. "So, although this does confirm everything we've discovered, it still doesn't bring us any closer to finding him." She sighed. "All we're doing is building a case of fact as opposed to fantasy."

  "That is not all we're doing," Tomas snapped. "We're trying to find Cat. That's the whole point of this. I don't care what's true or isn't." Cathal hadn't lied to him. Yes, he'd been evasive as hell and sidestepped, but he hadn't lied.

  "It's been three days, and we're still no closer on that," Heidi pointed out gently. "I know you've gone down to that damn tree in the middle of the night and yelled at it. If there is a way of getting him back or following him wherever he might be, that information is not here."

  Tomas felt his cheeks grow hot. "I didn't think I was that loud," he mumbled, not particularly proud of what he'd done the night before. Frustration had grown to a point he'd just wanted to hit something, so he'd gone out in the dark and taken out his anger on the bloody tree, yelling at it, demanding it send Cathal back. Nothing had happened. Not even when he'd slammed his fist into it. It had just stared back at him, keeping whatever secrets it held firmly to itself. Everything seemed to lead back to that fucking tree and the immediate area surrounding it. It should at least have the decency to share a few clues.

  "You woke us, and several of the neighbors." Donovan shook his head. "I had Doug on the phone asking if you'd lost your mind completely after he received several phone calls complaining about the racket and wanting him to check whether everything was okay."

  "It's not fucking okay." Tomas knew his voice was rising, but he didn't care. "I can't find him. I'm not waiting the rest of my life hoping but not knowing he'll come back to me. I can't do what she did. I won't. All I know is that he didn't leave by choice, and I intend to give that decision back to him."

  "Sometimes choices are made for us and we don't have a say in the matter." Heidi reached across the table to lay a reassuring hand on Tomas's arm, but he glared at her and pulled away. "Getting angry like this is not going to make things any better. You can only do what you can in life and hope it's enough."

  "It's all right for you," Tomas growled. "Everyone doesn't bloody leave you, do they? You're not getting this. It's not a fucking search for information or some quest to find the truth. Cat's more important than either of those. He's in trouble, and I can't do anything to help him. That arsehole hit him! God knows what else they've done to him. And you sit there and talk platitudes to me. They don't work. Nothing does. What happens if he doesn't come back? I spend the rest of my life waiting for what?" His voice cracked. "I don't want to end up like her. I can't."

  Donovan shook his head. "I think you owe Heidi an apology, Tomas." His tone was very quiet, his eyes narrow. "Yeah, sure you're upset and hurting, but that does not give you the right to talk to her like that. You don't know anything about either of us. Life does not revolve around you, despite what's just happened."

  "Of course it doesn't." Tomas was past any semblance of logic. He needed to lash out, the anger boiling up inside of him. "It never bloody has. Stupid me for thinking this would be any different." He slammed his chair back against the wall, ignoring the loud cracking noise.

  "That's enough!" Donovan walked over to Tomas so that there were mere inches between them. "Apologize now, or you can get out until you cool down. I've had enough of this crap. This is our home, and we're trying to be your friends. We don't have to do any of this." His voice softened. "We're worried about Cat too. I know what it's like to lose someone you love. If I knew a way to find him, I'd be doing it, but sometimes there's not."

  "There is," Tomas yelled. "There is." His stomach churned, his head was hurting. "This isn't fucking fair!" His fist came down on the table, his cup jumping into the air. Heidi grabbed it before it hit the floor.

  "You need to calm down." Heidi glanced at Donovan. "You're not going to help anyone like this."

  "And that's different to what I've already done, how?" Tomas shook his head. Donovan put a hand on his shoulder, holding him in place. He was a lot stronger than he looked.

  "You're going to go outside," he said firmly, ignoring Tomas's efforts to pull away, "and do whatever it takes. Just scream, go for a walk or whatever, but you are not coming back inside until you have worked through this and are calmer."

  "And if I don't?" Tomas told his logic to fuck off. He was past thinking, past caring about anything but what he knew he needed to do, and that did not involve wasting time going for some pointless walk. The thumping in his head was getting stronger, the rhythmic staccato reminding him over and over: lost him, lost him, lost him.

  Heidi picked up the phone. "I'll phone Harry and get him to sedate you. He will if I ask. I've already warned him of the possibility."

  He stared at her, his mouth dry. He hated sedatives; they reminded him of being in hospital after an accident he'd had as a child. He'd woken up alone, his head full of cotton wool, his stomach churning, convinced he'd been left there, forgotten. "You wouldn't," he pleaded, not able to hide the fear in his voice.

  "If she doesn't, I will," Donovan promised, his grip easing but still firm enough that Tomas couldn't move.

  He slumped, the energy and fire draining out of him. "Sorry," he mumbled, sure that the words were already spoken far too late. He'd well and truly screwed up their friendship by letting his emotions get the better of him. "I'll go." Tomas sighed; he hadn't yelled at anyone like that in years. In fact he'd never done that to anyone but Kathleen. "I'll come back and pack my bags later so I don't disturb you."

 
Donovan stared at him. "What the fuck?" he spluttered. "For God's sake, get your head out of your ass for one minute and listen to what's being said. I never said anything about not coming back. All I'm asking you to do is take some time out from this and calm down."

  "You're our friend, Tomas," Heidi reassured him. "You're going through a rough patch, and you're not thinking straight." Donovan muttered something under his breath, and she glared at him. "Okay, wrong choice of words there, but you know what I mean. You've been doing this for three days now, and not sleeping. It's time to take a break." She sighed. Donovan let go, stepping back out of the way. Heidi closed the distance between them and pulled Tomas into a hug. "Go for a walk and clear your head. We'll still be here when you get back."

  "Get any ideas of not coming back, and we'll kick your ass, after we've dragged you back," Donovan added. "You're not the easiest person to get on with, but you're growing on me, and life's too short to lose any more friends."

  Heidi tightened her embrace, and Tomas let her, too tired to protest or pull away. "Sorry," he mumbled again, feeling his vision blur with unshed tears. This was supposed to be a happy ending, something out of a novel, not another reminder of the reality of life.

  "Sorry means picking yourself up, moving forward, and trying to get in a better head space," Heidi said gently, giving him another hug before letting go. "Go have some quiet time and think. Sit under the tree if you need to, if that reminds you of him. Just don't thump the poor thing this time."

  He managed a watery smile. "I'm not sure I can promise that, but I'll try." Grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair where he'd dumped it earlier that morning, he bolted for the door, wanting to get away before he did something stupid like let go and cry in front of both of them.

  Heidi's voice echoed after him, the nature of her request not quite sinking in but his subconscious frowning in response. "If you see Blackthorn while you're out walking, bring her home, will you? She's got to be out there somewhere."

  * * * *

  Three days, and still nothing.

  Tomas kicked gravel across the path alongside the drive side of the hedgerow, watching the small stones fly in all directions. As much as he hated to admit it, Heidi was right. It didn't matter how much research they did or how many times they discovered further proof that Cathal and his cousin had come from somewhere that, as he had put it, wasn't local; it didn't help to bring him back.

  With the few details Cathal had let slip about his people, their laws, and their society, it was doubtful that it was anywhere Tomas had ever heard of.

  Fairyland? The helpful little voice inside his head suggested the obvious, and Tomas snorted aloud, his boot connecting with a large piece of stone in the path he was following.

  Cathal might believe in magic and dragons, but that didn't mean he was some mythical creature himself. Sighing, Tomas ran his hand across his mouth slowly, remembering the touch of Cathal's lips against his and how good it had felt, how alive it had made him feel, wanting and craving more.

  Whoever or whatever Cathal was didn't matter. Tomas just wanted to see that smile again, the light dancing in Cathal's eyes when he spoke. For some reason he and Cathal had connected almost instantly, although Tomas couldn't explain why.

  About to kick another stone, he realized that the ground beneath him had turned to grass. He looked up and about in surprise, the tree taunting him as he closed the distance between himself and it, the inn growing smaller behind him. He must have changed direction without thinking, walking subconsciously toward the place that held most of the memories he had of Cathal.

  His hands clenched and unclenched. Heidi had asked him not to take his frustration out on the tree again, and he intended to at least try. But sitting under it or walking around it wouldn't hurt. Brushing his hair back out of his eyes, he rubbed at them, ignoring the way his knuckles came away damp.

  History was not going to repeat itself. He was not Alice, and Cathal was not Christian. A choked laugh escaped his lips. Cathal was certainly no girl. No, wait. If Tomas had been the one left behind, didn't that make him the girl? Fuck that.

  Was that a line of thought he really wanted to pursue with Heidi in any shape or form? Remembering her reaction to Donovan driving her precious Land Rover, Tomas decided some trains of thought were better derailed before they left the station. He did, after all, have a tiny bit of sanity and self-preservation left, despite recent events. He'd be no good to Cathal at all if he'd had his balls ripped out and fed slowly to that damn cat for supper, wherever the hell she had disappeared to.

  The little bit of sun there was winked at him through the clouds. It wasn't bright enough to shade his eyes from it but just enough to be annoying. Stomping his way through the grass, he ignored the dampness of it around the bottom of his jeans. There had been a heavy dew the night before, and with it being late morning, some of it still lingered, especially the closer he got to the tree. Autumn was definitely approaching, although most days the seasons seemed to have a few issues in deciding exactly which one they were supposed to be.

  Tomas rubbed at his eyes; they were itchy from lack of sleep. The coffee wasn't doing what it was meant to. He knew he needed to rest, but when he was pursuing something he wanted, he tended to see it through to its bitter end. Kathleen had called him stubborn and told him it would be the literal death of him one day. Sleep was important, and whatever research he was doing for whatever the hell he was writing could wait. He disagreed. The one time he'd given in to her and slept, he'd woken to find the idea he'd had was gone, without even bothering to leave directions on how it could be reached again. Frustration was something he dealt with even more badly than lack of sleep. At that point she'd thrown him out to calm down in much the same way Heidi had just done. God, those two women would get along so well. The more he got to know Heidi, the more terrifying the thought of her and his sister becoming friends became.

  He could visualize Cathal's amusement at the situation now. His mouth would turn up into a slight smile, and he'd know exactly the right thing to say to prevent himself from becoming their next victim. Hopefully he'd protect Tomas at the same time. After all, that was what people did when they were in love, wasn't it?

  Fuck, what was he doing? Or thinking? Cathal was gone, and still Tomas's subconscious kept trying to visualize a future where they were together.

  "Don't you get it?" he yelled to the deserted field. "He's gone, and I don't know where the hell he is." This just wasn't fair. None of it was. He'd done nothing to deserve this. Nothing.

  The tree stared back at him, the long grass around the base of its trunk glistening like tears. How much had it seen over the last ninety years? Christian and Alice must have sat here too, exchanging words, murmuring endearments, holding each other and kissing. The imagined scene in his mind shifted to show an older Alice and Wynne, still a child rather than the old, lonely man who had lost so much. Even Cathal and Libby had shared companionship and conversation under the shade of the oak.

  Tomas and Cathal had met here too and begun their all-too-brief attempt to get to know each other, and their discovery that the feelings they had for each other were mutual. Cathal had meant the words he'd said in his role as a character from Tomas's manuscript. He was falling in love with Tomas, in the same way Tomas had already fallen for him, even if he'd not wanted to admit it at the time. He'd never believed in love at first sight; it was something out of a romance novel, and his life certainly wasn't one of those. It never would be.

  "Oh, Cat," he whispered, sinking to his knees in front of the tree and leaning his head against the rough wood of the trunk. "Come back to me, please." His voice choked, tears running down his cheeks. "I love you. I want a future with you, not a life wondering what-ifs. I don't want anyone else. I want you."

  He closed his eyes, the gentle breeze around him seeming to caress his cheek, just like it had done that first time. His fingers reached out, needing to touch, to be held, but there was n
othing there. He was alone.

  The dampness on his knees spread up toward his thigh area, his jeans protesting the amount of water in the grass. God, why couldn't reality just leave him alone? Opening his eyes, he noticed a dry-looking piece of dirt at the very base of the tree. He shifted, sitting down on it with a thump, pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, wiped his eyes, and blew his nose several times. His body felt heavy, his eyes puffy, yet a part of him felt better for having let go so totally. He sighed, guilt washing over him at the memory of the words he'd said to Heidi and Donovan. They'd been better friends than anyone he'd ever known, Ethan aside, and yet he'd got himself so caught up in his own grieving and frustration that he hadn't thought about how this situation would be impacting them.

  "I'm sorry," he mumbled, although there was no audience to hear him. How the hell was he going to make up for this? An apology would be a start but nowhere near enough. Tomas pulled his knees up, hugging them, resting his head on his arms. Where to now? Was there anything he could do? There were no more clues to follow, just this tree, which seemed determined to keep its secrets through several lifetimes. Apparently there had been a whole forest of these here years ago until the area had been cleared for farmland, leaving just a mere half-dozen standing. One by one, they had all fallen for a variety of reasons, the last couple struck down in a dramatic lightning storm just over a hundred years ago.

  What would happen when this last one was no more? Tomas knew, although he wasn't sure why, that it was connected to Cathal's world somehow. Would it, too, die one day, taking that final link between them with it?

  Whatever happened, it had better not bloody be before he got Cathal back. Without thinking, Tomas's gaze shifted upward, eyeing the clouds and the clear sky suspiciously. While he'd fight if he had to in order to make his dreams a reality, he didn't stand a chance against the forces of nature or--he glared at the tree--those of magic, if that was what the hell this was.