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Caught Forever Between

Page 4

by Adrian Phoenix


  The night suddenly released her, and Cass gasped for air, pulse racing. The reek of blood, piss, and animal musk saturated the air and left the scent of death upon her clothes and skin like a too-sweet perfume.

  Raleigh was still. His eyes, half-lidded, glazed. He seemed to shrink, to become smaller and thinner. Cass stared at him, the rich and raw taste of his heart still on her tongue.

  Her stomach lurched, and she looked away, her hands knotting into fists. What if she’d seen wrong? She’d been wrong about Helena, albeit not completely. Pain pierced Cass’s temple, doubled her vision for a moment. She felt something close within her, like shutters over a window.

  The loup garou looked at her, silver eyes unblinking. Cass met his gaze, then looked within and saw . . . nothing. The pain in her head faded, leaving a dull ache. A different kind of pain squeezed her heart and stole her breath. Her intuitive sight was gone. She remembered the mambo’s words: Justice ain’t never been free, girl.

  “Are we done walking the road?” Cass asked.

  The wolf circled Raleigh’s body, sniffing it, pushing at it with its muzzle. Pissed on it. After a few circuits, the wolf sat on its haunches and its body undulated, twisted in on itself.

  Unable to look away, Cass watched as Devlin shifted back into two-legged form. He crouched nude on the floor, hair a wild tangle across his face. He glanced at Cass with gleaming eyes.

  “I told you, for true,” he said, his voice thick and rough. “It’s a long way back from hell, and we got a ways to go yet.”

  He stood, and Cass’s gaze swept over him, seeing in her mind the way she’d translate his lean, taut-muscled body and blood-smeared face onto paper, but that was all she saw, no matter how far into him she looked. Her throat tightened. She watched as Devlin pulled on his jeans and T-shirt, then tugged on scuffed-up scooter boots.

  Bending, he eased Raleigh’s limp piss-and-shit-stinking body onto his shoulder, then stood. He looked at Cass. She stood and led him out the back door into the courtyard with its ivy-blanketed walls. Water gurgled through the white stone fountain, splashing into the small pool below — normally a musical, soothing sound, clear as wind chimes in the night. But not on this night. This night she only heard the liquid passing of time, time measured in cold water, time spilling away forever.

  Crossing the courtyard, Cass unlocked the padlock on the door leading to the street on the other side of the building. She stepped onto the sidewalk. An old battered Ford pickup was parked at the curb. She looked back at Devlin, lifted an eyebrow. He nodded. Cass glanced up and down the sidewalk. All clear. She stepped out so Devlin could follow with his burden.

  Cass waited, hand on a cold bronze horsehead hitching post, while Devlin heaved Raleigh’s body into the bed of the pickup and covered it with a tarp. She watched, feeling nothing, seeing nothing, numb inside and out — just like she’d been after Alex had been shot. Wrapped in cotton. Muffled. Unreal. Her head and heart ached.

  “Follow me.”

  The words shook Cass awake like a hand to a dreamer’s shoulder. She looked at Devlin and just managed to catch the keys he tossed to her.

  Devlin trotted across the street to a motorcycle. It was the Harley she’d seen outside his shack. He kick-started it into rumbling life. Cass started the pickup and followed when Devlin pulled away from the curb.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Raleigh’s body splashed as it slipped into the swamp’s night-blackened water. Orange lambent eyes flashed for a moment before sinking beneath the surface. The water suddenly churned.

  ’Gators, Cass thought. “Justice,” she murmured, throat tight. She closed her burning eyes. Made herself see — one last time — the designs Alex’s blood had made on the floor, the dark spatters on his patterns and sketches.

  Raleigh’s voice: I didn’t shoot Alex! He’s my fucking brother!

  Remembered: He’s dead, isn’t he? Cass?

  And Helena’s calm words: I’d do it again. I have no regrets.

  “Automne be your name,” Devlin murmured. “You be the twilight season caught forever between summer and winter, for true.”

  Fingers brushed at her temples. Cass’s eyes flew open. Devlin stood just a handspan away, his lambent eyes full of moonlight. His fingers whispered against her temples again, there and gone, but the feel of him burned against her skin.

  He gazed into her — she knew he was seeing — and she tensed, felt herself knot up against him. Leaning in, he nuzzled her, rubbing his cheek against hers. His scent — musk, sweat, and night-cooled green ivy — lingered upon her face. He smelled of the deepest night, wild and hidden. He also smelled of blood — Raleigh’s blood — and death.

  “Your Sight is gone, and that’s a shame,” Devlin said. He straightened, but remained where he was, his heat baking into her body. “That be a hard price to pay. Didn’t I tell you to take your talent and go?” He looked away suddenly, staring into the night. “Our walk be done, for true.”

  Cass nodded, then said, “I was right about Raleigh, wasn’t I?” She blinked back the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. “He shot Alex — ”

  “Take the pickup,” Devlin said, leaving her question, her doubt, unanswered. “Gabrielle, she expecting it.”

  “I want you to know — ”

  Devlin shook his head. “Go.”

  At the pickup, Cass glanced back the way she’d come through the dark. Devlin had stripped and hunkered down, his pale-skinned body shifting. On all fours, he ran into the night. She watched until he was gone, a swift black shape caught for a moment in the moonlight.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Cass held Alex’s hand. The fresh fragrance of lilacs drifted through the room. The harsh coughing from the next bed had ceased — the bed empty and stripped bare. Out in the hall, voices called over the intercom, paging doctors and squawking codes. Inside, the machines monitoring Alex blipped and beeped.

  Cass drifted into half dreams of the night and the moon, of autumn fires and gleaming eyes, of a black wolf and a man. But in her hands, she cupped the sun. A sun she could no longer see.

  Caught forever between, the loup garou and her, trapped between skin and fur, sun and moon, justice and vision. Maybe the walk along hell’s road never truly ended.

  Grief squatted like a gargoyle on Cass’s heart. Her Michelangelo would need a new apprentice. And his brother was gone forever. But maybe Raleigh had vanished the moment he’d pulled the trigger. And Helena? The tiger defending the sleeping cub? Cass didn’t know. She hadn’t spoken to or even seen her sister since the mambo had led her from the kitchen.

  Murder was murder, wasn’t it? Killing for love no cleaner than killing out of envy, no cleaner than asking another to kill for you.

  Wasn’t it?

  Shaking free of her half dreams, Cass glanced down into eyes of deepest blue, cool and soothing: a mountain lake; a twilight sky just before the stars sparked to life. Her breath caught in her throat.

  Alex had opened his eyes.

  ###

  Afterword

  Just a quick note to let y’all know that the French contained in this story is actually Cajun and therefore often different in spelling, grammar, and sometimes usage. Also, this story is set in the world of my Hoodoo books (Black Dust Mambo, Black Heart Loa, and(coming soon) Black Moon Mojo), which also feature from time to time both Gabrielle LaRue and Devlin Daniels.

  About Adrian

  Adrian is the critically acclaimed author of two urban fantasy series: The Maker’s Song series and the Cajun Hoodoo Series (both published by Pocket).And now a brief (ha!) word from Adrian herself. Ahem.

  As a writer, a person, and a mother, I’ve always believed in following your dreams, following your heart. It’s also important to keep your heart, so I also believe in being prepared for zombie attacks and can’t stress enough the importance of having regular family drills so every member of the household is zombie-ready. One never knows. Make sure the sofa is ready to push in front of the door. Be clear that if a memb
er of the family is on the wrong side of the door when the zombie action goes down. They remain on the wrong side of the door. The greater good, etc.

  I live in Springfield, Oregon in a zombie-free home (except when meeting deadlines) with four cats, Amiga, Diabla, Ember, and Keats, and have two sons and three grandchildren and two granddogs.

  I love to read and see movies, enjoy hiking with my granddog, Cielo, (immortalized in Black Dust Mambo and Black Heart Loa), and hanging out with friends.

  I also love creepy things and yearns to go on a paranormal investigation. I also hope to do a haunted tour one day.

  I also love, love, love music — and anything by Trent Reznor is high on the list. I also love to hear from my readers and fans, so please feel free to contact me at any of the links below!

  Other Works by Adrian (Novels)

  The Maker’s Song series:

  A Rush of Wings

  In the Blood

  Beneath the Skin

  Etched in Bone

  On Midnight Wings (coming soon)

  The Hoodoo series

  Black Dust Mambo

  Black Heart Loa

  Black Moon Mojo (coming soon)

  Excerpts

  Read the first chapter of A Rush of Wings

  Read the first chapter of Black Dust Mambo

  Connect with Adrian

  Website

  Facebook

  Facebook Fan Page

  Twitter

  MySpace

  Goodreads

  Pocket After Dark

  Smashwords Page

  Back to the top

  Table of Contents

  Beginning

  Scene2

  Scene3

  Scene4

  Finale

  Afterword

  About Adrian

  Other Works by Adrian

  Excerpts

  Connect with Adrian

  T earing

  C ass

  C ass

  Raleigh’s

  C ass

  Just

  Adrian

  The

  Read

  Connect

  Back to the top

 

 

 


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