Kay and Zoe exchanged a look, as if wondering why neither of them had thought of that idea.
Chapter 42: Before
Dixie was feeling her age, her joints creaking, her head foggy, her body slow. She’d begun to plan her drives further and further in advance, thinking about turning blocks before she had to so she didn’t miss the street. The connection between her mind and her muscles had gotten so slow, like there was a lag or the connection broke periodically, for nanoseconds, as the kids would say, and then came back. Lorne had no such issues, being as vigorous as he always was, still mowing the lawn, going out hunting, bowling even, and was better than ever. It wasn’t fair.
But life wasn’t fair.
Dixie was feeling that call, the one that told her to go out and talk to Emrys. She got up from the sofa and walked out to the backyard, wondering when it had changed to an overgrown jungle of plants and trees around the edges. There was a large plot of grass in the center and over the side was where she’d had Kay’s play-set that included a climbing tower and swings all done in browns and greens, something Dixie would have loved as a girl and Kay seemed to take for granted.
Children did.
Dixie sighed, standing there, looking around. There were chairs outside but they were beginning to rust, the white metal now sort of orange and brown, though the blue canvas that stretched across the frame on the seat and the back was still solid and unsoiled. Lorne took good care of them. She didn’t come out much, hadn’t since she’d had her last conversation with Emrys so many years ago. But Lorne did.
This early in the year it was still chilly, and Dixie folded her arms across her chest, trying to avoid a shiver. The daffodils were just poking their heads up. The bushes smelled faintly pungent and she missed the scent of the grass which wouldn’t really smell for another month or so when it started to grow and Lorne used the lawn mower for the first time after the finish of winter.
The cement upon which her feet stood was cold, making her want to curl her toes in her heavy slippers, their rubber soles fine for a quick run down the walk to get the mail but not for sitting outside in the early spring. But this needed to be done. Dixie had a feeling she didn’t have that much time.
She closed her eyes, the garden fading from sight, the image becoming black.
“Emrys,” she whispered.
Faster than she remembered, or perhaps her thoughts were just slow, he was there. Even in her vision the yard was an overgrown tangle of bushes and trees mostly colored in a bright evergreen green, practically burying the crepe myrtle that was only beginning to bud. The foliage all sat behind Emrys like a fence between her yard and the rest of the world, creating a tiny kingdom that belonged only to her.
“Lady of the Blood. I am at your service.” Emrys even made a little bow which looked funny on him as he was so much shorter than she was, at least in her mind’s eye. Could she make him look like anything?
“I can look however you want to me to look,” Emrys said, “but, as you have not had any preference to date, I look only like myself.”
Dixie said nothing in response to his joke. She just looked at him, letting him wait. Finally, she spoke. “You must promise to leave my daughter out of this when I die.”
“That I cannot do,” Emrys said. “I have an oath older than my oaths to you that must be kept, and she is of the Blood. I will need her here to be a sort of liaison between my kind and the mortals here.”
“And if she does not wish to do that?” Dixie asked. She had fed Kay so much information about being a good girl, a good Christian woman, and how Corbin Meadow made it hard, she knew that although the child was married to her high school sweetheart, Taran Rees, that she longed to live elsewhere. Dixie hoped that perhaps that would happen one day.
“There will be pain and suffering here,” Emrys said. “Ultimately mortals will win out because there are but few of us, but we will take many with us, make more suffer, and spread terror. I will be unable to stop them, nor will I be able to participate for I have, as I said, made oaths to that effect.”
“But you’d want to,” Dixie asked.
Emrys smiled, his teeth looking particularly sharp to her eyes, which, she realized, seemed sharper in her mind’s eye than in reality. Had she begun to lose her sight, too? Cataracts or some such thing floated through her mind.
Dixie sighed. He was indeed a demon and she was probably going to hell.
“Keep my daughter safe,” Dixie pleaded. “I know you have other oaths but keep her safe. Do it for me. I will do what I can to keep her here.”
Or not. But Dixie shut that thought down even as she considered the best way to convince Kay to leave and never come back. Did she really care about the town as much as she cared about her daughter’s soul? Her own was long since forfeit.
“I will do so,” Emrys said. “Though all of the Blood have a certain amount of protection, imperfect though it is, especially now when the blood is so thin in most, it is harder for me to exert my will over the rest.”
Dixie didn’t understand his words, didn’t care about his words.
“Can I release you from your first oath?” Dixie asked.
Emrys was silent for a few moments. Then he said, “It has been tried and with words that seemed airtight to me, yet I am bound. Only the original binder could release me, and he is long dead.”
Dixie sighed. “Then I wish to be able to protect my daughter from harm. I wish to help keep the town safe so she doesn’t have to risk her soul! I wish that my wish extends beyond my lifespan.”
Emrys sighed. “Your daughter does not risk her soul talking to me, nor have you. I will do what I can to grant your wish, though you may not appreciate the outcome.”
Dixie smiled and opened her eyes. She went inside the house, looking around at her things, the small kitchen that had always seemed too dark despite the large window over the sink, the wood flooring that Lorne had put in, the family photos she’d arranged in a collage along the hallway. When she was gone what would happen to these things that were a repository of her own hopes and dreams?
Chapter 43
Zoe placed her right foot on her left one. Taran was standing too close to her, something she might have enjoyed in another situation. He smelled like spiced apples which made her think of cider and Halloween, which brought her back to the present and the fact that Kay was standing on his other side, periodically eyeing the two of them like she was wondering if something was going on.
Zoe’s arm throbbed suddenly, that knock-out pain that made her bite back a gasp, though it disappeared quickly. The throbbing was coming less and less frequently. She wondered if she’d been able to wash her arm and hand sooner if it would have been less painful. It was too late now, and hopefully she wouldn’t have to experience it again. Had her mother died in that sort of pain, or had it happened quickly and suddenly? No one had said she looked uncomfortable.
She could ask Taran. He’d been there. He’d been there for Elaine, too, and this new murder. She didn’t want to derail the conversation though, not now that Taran had had a good idea.
“I could do that,” Kay whispered, willing to wish that no one in town was murdered. “I have to try, don’t you think?” she looked at Zoe.
Zoe agreed.
“How?” Taran asked.
“My dad’s here,” Zoe whispered. “Maybe we can go somewhere else?”
“My daddy’s at home too,” Kay said. “I was going to stay there, but I don’t know how he’d feel about me being out in the garden. My momma…”
Kay didn’t have to say more.
“My house?” Taran asked. “You can head off to Johnson City afterwards. I think you’ll be safer there and maybe you can get answers.”
Zoe looked at Kay, who paused for a few moments, her eyebrows furrowed. Finally she asked, “Where are you living?”
Taran told her the address, a small house over on the east side of town, nothing to brag about, but the houses there were solid, the yards small, a
nd the people had lived in Corbin Meadow forever.
“Get your stuff,” she said to Zoe.
“I’m going with Kay,” Zoe called to her dad. “Taran thinks it’s a good idea.”
Ed stood up from the recliner he’d been sitting in, walking over the main doorway, looking down the hallway at his daughter. Zoe turned to look back at him.
“Are you sure? Over the mountains in the dark? At least stay in Boone or something,” Ed said, ever practical.
“We’ll see how far we get,” Kay said.
“I don’t want someone following you,” Ed pressed.
“I’ll escort them out of town,” Taran added. Zoe didn’t hear the rest. She went into her room, which had been converted to a general guest room when she’d left, her dresser painted over in white and the walls painted a pale neutral yellow. The bed was a nice newer double with a generic yellow and white comforter on it. The posters were long gone, and there were photos of the family decorating the walls, as if to remind visitors whose house they were in, lest they forget while they slept.
She had already packed up, had in fact been packing when her father had come home and wanted to know what was going on. It was at his insistence that they stayed and had a little something to eat, that little something being a salad and sandwich, food that had tasted better than it should have because she was so hungry. The fact that Kay had gobbled it down almost as fast said that she had been just as hungry as Zoe.
They’d been talking—or arguing—about going over the mountains that night when Taran had arrived. They could make the meeting the next day, it wasn’t early, but if they left that night, they’d be out of town. Kay was itching to be gone. Zoe didn’t care as much but she wanted to honor Kay’s desires, given that the poor woman seemed to think she’d sacrificed her soul already.
Zoe pulled her small suitcase out of the room and walked down the hall. She grabbed her purse, which held her phone. She made sure she had a phone charger and looked around.
“Is that all you have?” Kay asked, raising her eyebrows.
“It’s a day or two, right?” Zoe looked back. She actually had underwear and clothing for longer, but they’d said just a day maybe two depending upon what they learned.
Kay looked dubious but she reached the front door. Taran opened it for her and followed the women out, waving at Ed.
Zoe stepped back and hugged her daddy as he came to the screen door, holding it open.
“Call me when you stop for the evening,” he said. “I’ll worry otherwise.”
“I’m a big girl now, Daddy,” Zoe said.
“I know, but all this happening feels like you’re a little one again. I just want to find a way to protect you.” Ed looked sad, as if deep down he knew this wasn’t something he could protect his daughter from.
He pulled himself up to his full height and nodded at Kay and Taran. Kay was already getting into her CRV and Zoe hurried over. Taran was waiting, watching while she put the suitcase into the back. When she was in the SUV, he started the police cruiser and headed off for his home.
Kay looked at Zoe. “Well, here goes nothing.”
“Here we go,” Zoe said. “I’m wondering. If you can wish to stop the murders, can you also wish that there’s an answer to the murders we can give other people, you know, like the sheriffs?”
Kay nodded. “I guess if this is losing my immortal soul, then I can probably make life as easy for everyone else as I can.”
Zoe put her hand on Kay’s arm but the other woman didn’t turn. She focused on her driving, which was slower this time, following Taran, who was cruising the streets slowly as if worried about them getting lost. He could have doubled his speed and they’d still have been able to follow through city traffic. In Corbin Meadow, with the roads carrying one or two cars, he could have drag raced. But that wasn’t Taran’s way.
Zoe wondered how things would work if he also stood with them while Kay asked her questions.
Chapter 44
Taran pulled up to his house, uncomfortable to be bringing Kay there, to a home he never expected to share with her. It wasn’t up to her typical standards, just an older home on a small lot with a detached garage in the back. It needed work, but he’d gotten it for a song and he’d already done some of the improvements, finding that he enjoyed working with his hands. He often wondered if there was something in the water around Corbin Meadow that made people want to craft things.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t finished the projects that still needed to be done. And the furniture which served him well enough was not the sort of thing he wanted to bring Kay home to. Even if he could forget Kay, he dreaded seeing the same judgement of his poor taste—poor being the keyword—in Zoe’s eyes.
The air was thick with the scents of vanilla and something like honey, which came from one of the low creeping plants edging the yard around the paths that he’d redone early in the spring. It was a pleasant enough smell, especially now that the air wasn’t so still and heavy.
Kay arrived behind him, her SUV smoothly making the turn with a soft purr that Taran could appreciate. She hadn’t had such a nice car when they’d been together. They hadn’t been able to afford it. She was clearly doing well in Virginia.
She paused, sitting in the car, letting Zoe get out first, while she looked at the house, the slightly sagging screen door, the siding that needed repainting, though it didn’t actually need replacing, the cracks in the cement that may or may not be visible in the dark, the slightly overgrown garden. She finally got out and walked back towards Taran, who was parked in front of his garage. His own truck was in the garage and cruiser stayed outside when he brought it home. It wasn’t his for personal use, but he was pretty much always on duty one way or another in a town as small as Corbin Meadow.
The backyard was small, only a patch of lawn and not much else. A few trees, because there were always trees around Corbin Meadow. The oldest of them, an old willow tree, had been taken down when he’d moved in because the roots were reaching the sewer system and the trunk was half rotted. It was a disaster waiting to happen on so many levels. There was still a depression near the garage where the willow had once stood.
“Is there some place to sit?” Kay asked, getting right down to business.
There were a four old plastic Adirondack-style chairs sitting on the back porch. He’d gotten that many because that’s how the used set had come. One was slightly cracked, and Taran guided the two women around that one.
“I was thinking we should also ask the creature for advice or a story about what to tell Sheriff Fellows about the murders,” Zoe said. “To tie up his loose ends, don’t you think?”
Taran nodded. “I’m not sure what he’ll do unless he has a suspect, though.”
“Maybe the creature, Emrys, has an idea.”
Kay and Zoe reached out their hands, each woman grasping the other’s hand. Taran was slower to respond, and Kay slapped his hand slightly when he realized they wanted to hold his hand, too. He scooted his chair closer and held both of them, Kay’s slightly cool and moist. Zoe’s warmer and drier, almost fiery, and she flinched a little when he took it.
“Close your eyes,” Kay ordered.
Taran did so, but not before noticing that the other two had their eyes closed already. Immediately he had a vision of his backyard in more detail than he normally saw in his mind’s eye. The colors were clearer than they were as they sat in the backyard, and there was a sort of ghostly outline of the willow, like it wasn’t completely gone.
In the midst of that was the creature he’d seen briefly when he and Zoe had been in her house. There were other creatures there, near the edges, but he couldn’t make them out.
“I want to you to promise that there will be no more murders when people try to expand the town,” Kay said.
Taran heard her mumbling the words but he also heard them clearly in his mind, like he was remembering something.
“Is that what you wish?” the creature that Zoe had ca
lled Emrys asked. He was waiting.
“I wish it.” Kay’s voice was firm, firmer in his imagination than it was in the whisper he heard from her.
“I shall do my best,” Emrys said. “It is part of keeping the town safe that you have wished for before.”
“I wish to have a story I can tell outsiders about the deaths of these people,” Kay said.
“A story?” Emrys said. “Like perhaps a story about a headless horseman? Or a story about elves in the garden?”
“No,” Kay snapped. “I wish a story that will stand up to outside scrutiny, that will mean the sheriff, who is an outsider, will understand and accept.”
Emrys was silent. A smile that Taran did not like flashed across his face multiple times but then he paused. “You have tried to be so careful, so I will clarify this wish. First, I can grant that. Kelvin White works at the specialty nursery in Raleigh. He visits his mother here regularly and can be placed here on each day of the murders because his mother calls him when she’s upset. The trowel will tie him there. The sheriff you wish to lie to would believe because the man is not white. Do you wish me to create a story about him?”
“No,” Zoe said firmly.
Emrys didn’t look at her.
“Can you do a story like that about someone who is dead?” Kay asked, picking up.
Taran thought that was a better idea.
“It would be possible that Kelvin would die in a traffic accident on his next visit to his mother,” Emrys suggested.
“I don’t want you to kill someone to grant my wish,” Kay said. This time it was a louder whisper, her voice less firm in Taran’s mind, almost tearful.
Emrys waited.
“Is there someone here who is close to death anyway who could have committed the murders?” Zoe asked. Her voice was soft, a whisper in his ear in the real world. In his mind’s world, where this seemed to be happening, it was like a soft breeze in the wind. No wonder Emrys ignored her.
Souls Lost (Appalachian Souls Book 1) Page 17
