Deep In the Woods

by Chris Marie Green

  Dawn spoke to Natalia again. “I’m asking you.” Then she swallowed, the lump in her throat growing. “Hunter to hunter.”

  Natalia didn’t do anything; she only looked into Dawn’s eyes, as if not knowing which way to go.

  But Dawn knew what the new girl had to be seeing in her: the night Dawn had worked over Claudius. The dark marks she’d gotten every time she’d stepped over the line.

  Natalia rose from her chair, but before she could break the hand chain that would result in chasing The Whisper from Kiko, Jonah did what none of them had any right to do.

  “Costin, come back! We need you here, now!”

  A formal summons from one of the team—exactly what The Whisper had come to warn them about.

  The Whisper sighed, unable to do anything more.

  Dawn’s first instinct was to attack Jonah, but even thinking about it caused the dragon’s blood to rear up inside her, like this was the opportunity it’d been waiting for. Terror forced her to stay in her chair as she gripped Kiko’s limp hand, unwilling to give herself over to the blood.

  Do it, half of her urged, anyway.

  But Natalia took over where Dawn couldn’t.

  She sprang at Jonah, unlinking the hand chain that held them all together, liberating The Whisper as Kiko slumped out of his chair and to the floor.

  On her way to Jonah, the new girl upset the table, then crashed against him as he caught her and got her into a headlock. She swung at Jonah with her arms, and he kept restraining her.

  “Stop it!” Dawn was out of her chair now, inserting her good arm between them.

  “I know you’ll hate me for this,” Jonah said, his voice rough with his efforts. “But Costin’s business isn’t done. Not with any of us. If he was still down here, he would’ve insisted on being summoned, even if he ‘technically’ slayed the dragon. That wouldn’t have been good enough for him.”

  “I could’ve kept the dragon away,” Dawn said, still controlling that anger. The bad blood stomped inside her, like it was trying to kick down a door.

  She had to keep it behind the barrier.

  “It wouldn’t have turned out well, Dawn,” Jonah said, “and you know it.”

  “You did it because you can’t live without him.” She tried to push him away from Natalia. “You can’t stand the thought of him being whole up there without you.”

  “Can you?”

  Dawn ground her teeth together. But it wasn’t because of physical pain.

  She finally got him off of Natalia, but instead of facing the new girl, Jonah turned to Dawn.

  “Can you?” he repeated.

  “Yes, I can stand it,” Dawn said, her tone level. The dragon’s blood slunk back to its place, as if waiting for another time that it knew would come, because anger always did with Dawn, even if she’d avoided it this once. “I can be happy with knowing he was finally released from the tragedy that’s been his life for centuries. I wanted that for him—peace and quiet.”

  It was the first time she meant it, and it felt right. Not good, but right.

  During the impasse, Natalia had gone over to Kiko and was catching him up on Costin and The Whisper. But now it didn’t seem like he remembered much of it, based on his confused questions.

  Then the new girl shook up the room. “If Costin was summoned, where is he?”

  Dawn forgot Jonah, looking around instead, trying to see if Costin was sweeping the room with his invisible, yanked-out-of-limbo essence.

  Then she remembered the portrait in their bedroom. The field of fire where Costin used to rest when he’d give Jonah out-of-body free time back in L.A.

  She ran toward the stairs the best she could, forgetting her bad leg and grunting at the aftershocks in her broken arm.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  THE DRAGON WAITS

  THE rest of the team came with her up the stairs.

  Please be there, she thought. She didn’t know where the hell else Costin would’ve gone if he hadn’t resumed Jonah’s body yet.

  She busted into her room, heading straight for the portrait, which had been only fire when she’d last seen it.

  But that was then.

  Now, there was a figure, and it was positioned differently than it’d been when the painting had been filled with his essence in L.A.

  For the first time, she could see his true face.

  Dawn got to her knees, touching the texture of the portrait. His long, wavy hair streamed down his back and away from him, exposing the pensive, downturned tips on a wide mouth. The slant of cheekbones under tanned skin. The topaz of eyes that held all the hopeful sorrow of a man who’d sacrificed everything—including his nearly completed journey to a final rest.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I could’ve done it without you . . .”

  Behind her, Jonah was laughing, but in a way that someone dancing on the splinter between disbelief and joy laughed. Then the room filled with jasmine, as if the Friends had all been roused at once. They cried out mournfully, muffled by their wind-tunnel voices.

  Costin’s figure seemed to move in the portrait, then . . .

  Then his topaz eyes focused on her.

  She sucked in a breath, just as he disappeared, leaving her with only a view of the fire field.

  The Friends wailed, voicing Dawn’s own feelings, but then she sensed him next to her, just as she had been able to feel his invisible force in L.A.—a shivering presence that tied up her veins.

  When he spoke, The Voice filtered through her with its deep, dark assonance, and Dawn sobbed once, covering her mouth with her free hand, taken over by the old feelings plus the new ones—the love that had somehow developed along the way.

  “The air,” he said, as if he’d never experienced it before. He’d been in Jonah’s body a long time, then far out of it. “I remember it now. It is not quite like it was just a moment ago. . . .”

  Back at that resort, so close to paradise.

  “Costin,” Jonah said. “I’m here. You can come into me.”

  “I know.” Still, Costin hovered. “You brought me back because you missed having me with you.”

  “Because of Dawn, too.”

  Jonah’s words were heartfelt, but she still wanted to choke him.

  “Yes,” Costin said. “You called me back for that reason, as well. As usual, you tried to make good in the most misguided method possible, Jonah, but I understand.” He moaned slightly, as if the reality of being away from the light was pulling at him.

  “You don’t have to hurt,” Jonah said. “Come into me. Root. It’ll make you feel better.”

  “You would offer your body to me so I might move among humanity unnoticed again, though it means for you to be pushed down into that vessel when I am present?”

  “You know I would. I know a body makes you feel more human, and that’s what you’ve always wanted.”

  Costin floated around Dawn, and her hair moved with him, just like he was trailing a hand against her. She leaned her head back, needing to feel him.

  “Once a recluse, always a recluse,” he said to Jonah. “But you do know that I would leave your body whenever I wish. Before, I was forced to root to humanity because The Whisper needed to make certain I would fulfill my vow. That would not be the case now.”

  Dawn looked around. Was he actually planning on reclaiming Jonah as a host?

  If he did, was he doing it for her sake? She was used to him in this body. Even with seeing his true persona in the portrait, he seemed like a stranger when he wasn’t in Jonah. But didn’t he know that she would do whatever it took to get used to another one? Or that she’d be fine with a spirit, just like Frank was with Breisi?

  But maybe this had nothing to do with her: Maybe he and Jonah were linked because of what they’d gone through together as a vampire. Maybe Costin had found a type of camaraderie with his host—something he’d only had with his blood brothers, once upon a time.

  Costin floated up to Dawn; it was obvious that he intended to as
k permission to enter her mind so he could make this decision with her. Yet neither of them had allowed themselves to be so open with each other for a while—they’d been too shut off from each other . . .

  But now she was only too happy to open up.

  His voice eased into her head, and it felt like a soft, cleansing baptism.

  She shivered, welcoming him back.

  What would you think if I assumed a different body? he asked, his voice spinning through her thoughts.

  It’d be your choice, Dawn said, meaning it.

  Jonah would hurt himself if I left. There is more than that though. He has always done his best for me. He has loved me in his own way, more than any other host. At leaving him, I realize that he has become . . . a home. He stayed in Dawn. Just as you have.

  She couldn’t help a barrage of sadness. You shouldn’t be here. You should’ve never been called back. Can’t you return? You should, Costin, you—

  Dawn. He swept around her mind, and she went weak, even as she stayed strong. I could not move on. Don’t you know that?

  He had to be talking about his responsibilities with the dragon. You feel like you need to close out every loose end.

  No. I could never stray far from you.

  She didn’t grasp that at first. Her? Unspecial, angry Dawn Madison?

  Do you think I would leave you, especially at your darkest time? His essence was a caress that eased her darkness to a lighter shade. I am not Eva. I am not the others.

  Her shoulders racked with another sob, but he lifted her up from the inside out, easing her sadness. Yet the tears still came. Happy ones.

  The dragon died and I was spirited away before I could ever show you just how much you mean, he said.

  If I would’ve known his death would take you—

  I did not wish to present the idea and raise your hopes.

  Dawn nodded; she’d thought so.

  Imagine, he added, if the dragon had expired and I was still trapped in Jonah when you had the idea that I might be released. Your guilt would have surpassed even what you already carried with you.

  I could’ve handled it. She bent her head. Please, just promise that you’re always going to be open from now on. I’ll be that way, too.

  I vow it.

  It was as if her head and heart had been cleared, opened so that eternity stretched over her, in her.

  But was that how long he would really stay? Even with his reward waiting for him up there, somewhere?

  He enveloped every doubt, wrapping around them like a warm, soft blanket. I am back with you until death. I cannot go toward any paradise without you—I would suffer a million pains after being pulled away from the light so that I might feel your illumination.

  She put her hand over her heart, just as he slipped out of her mind, leaving a flow of that warmth behind. He was willing to go this far for her. No one ever had, and she hadn’t believed that anyone ever would.

  She repeated it to herself again. He’d come back for her.

  His physical-world voice captivated the room with its low, full vibration. “Friends.”

  The spirits wavered, knowing this was it for them.

  “Though I am here, you are released from your vow to me. You have served beyond anything I ever hoped for and deserve more than the little piece of home you have in your portraits.”

  They stayed.

  “I cannot force you to go,” he said, “but there is such calm where I was, even in limbo. There is happiness that you have never experienced before, and I would be so relieved to know that you have found such an eternity.”

  “But the dragon . . .” one of them said. Kalin, who was camped out near Jonah.

  “If you wish to see the dragon tempered, I shall give you that, certainly. Then we will see to your going . . .”

  He hovered before Dawn, vibrating. She felt every bit of him on her skin.

  “Time for me to finish business,” he said.

  “Can you?” Dawn asked.

  He only floated there, humming like the all-consuming vibration of a massive bell after being struck.

  He was The Voice, and he’d taken on masters, taken on the world.

  And, with no more of a warning, he dove into Dawn’s body, not just her head. Past her skin, filling every pore with his electric charge, he flushed through her. But this time, she felt the pain he’d carried back with him from limbo—the hurt of being away from his final paradise.

  With a rush, she infused him with all the love she’d kept back, and he paused, as if surprised. He floated in her, suspended, absorbing it, and she knew that he was accepting something he’d never been able to before: her ability to help and even save him.

  She joined with him, twining, and they drew strength from each other, pulling, pushing, expanding to something that would be impossible to beat.

  Go get him, she thought.

  She pushed off, releasing him, and he zoomed ahead toward the dragon’s blood.

  She felt herself physically sinking to the floor at the intensity of the speed inside of her, at the surge of him finding the dragon’s blood then blasting into it, its mass exploding into thousands of tiny globs that hit the walls of her body.

  But then she felt the blood immediately coming back together, as if the dragon was getting composed for this final showdown.

  They circled each other inside of her, stretching and burning the portion of her body where the dragon’s blood had been loitering. Then, with a tear, they both surged forward, crashing against each other and making Dawn buck up from the floor.

  She closed her eyes, pushing aside her anger at being invaded by the dragon and concentrating on everything good about Costin coming back.

  As they tore at each other, her vision began to fade: slams and explosions that bruised her like internalized punches. Twisting, throttling, bangs that hurtled through her, until the dragon blood burned on its journey to being pushed back, back toward the inner walls of her being . . .

  With a flare, she felt the skin on the right side of her body heat up, just as the Underground had licked out in flames when it had expelled Dawn and Jonah the other night.

  Then Costin burst out of her, and she opened her eyes, hearing his essence rush away as it headed straight for Jonah, as if out of habit. At the impact, the host stumbled backward, his eyes going topaz as he reached for one of the bedposts to keep him standing.

  Costin didn’t need to root anymore, Dawn thought, but maybe it just felt good to do it inside Jonah after a throw down.

  When he straightened, he smiled Costin’s smile while Natalia and Kiko simply looked on.

  Dawn’s heart flipped. Her skin on the dragon splash side hurt like a bitch, as if knife tips were digging into it, but she couldn’t feel the dragon inside anymore.

  It was away from her soul stain.

  She smiled, more tears slipping down her cheeks. Costin had done it.

  They had done it.

  When Jonah spoke, it was Costin’s tone that came out, exhausted. But Jonah would be sheltering him, lending his own strength to bring him back to rights.

  “What I have done might not be enough,” Costin said to Dawn. “I might have to push it back again if the blood should encroach.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

  It was more than she could’ve ever asked for—to have him here, free and willing to be inside her again. To have the dragon on the retreat.

  Kiko and Natalia came to help her up from the floor just as the Friends gathered around Costin. It was time for him to say good-bye—to tell each one of them what they’d meant, and she would leave them alone for that. But first, she, Kiko, and Natalia also thanked the women, and Dawn wished she could give them more than just words.

  They brushed against her with their jasmine, liking Dawn’s sentiments just fine as they were. Then she finally left the room with the human members of the team.

  She glanced back at Costin, who was looking at her, too, a smile still on his face
.

  Together, she thought. They could do this together.

  Kiko linked his hand through Dawn’s good arm, showing he’d also be there for her, as he held Natalia’s hand on his other side. The three of them walked down the hall while the Friends’ pictures began filling up, one by one, then disintegrating to blank spots on the walls, as if the portraits had never been there at all.

  Then the three went to Frank’s room, where he still lay in bed and Breisi clung to the man she loved, refusing to leave like her fellow spirits were doing.

  Her portrait remained on the wall as Dawn sat in the chair at her father’s side, Frank placing his hand on hers to show that he wasn’t going anywhere, either.

  TWENTY-NINE

  FOUND

  Months Later

  EVA sat in front of the large oval mirror in a Roman hotel suite, tucking a strand of her light hair into a diamond pin that swept the rest of the curls into a loose bun. The luminous bulbs around the mirror made her pale skin glow and her brown eyes shine now that she had grown comfortable with her new existence.

  She touched her fingers to her cheek, dwelling on the face that wouldn’t age beyond what she saw now—a woman of classical middle-aged beauty.

  And her man had promised she would stay this way.

  Trailing her hand down her throat, she reached for a delicate crystal bottle of Chanel No. 5, using the stopper to dab the fragrance on her wrists, behind her ears, in the cove of her throat. Then she smoothed a bit of lotion on the arms and shoulders left bare by her strapless white evening gown.

  When she heard the suite door opening, she paused, rested her hands on the vanity table.

  He was here.

  In the mirror, she saw him appear in back of her, where he stood by the door in his black tuxedo, his dark, straight hair slicked down to the level of his chin, his slightly tilted eyes flashing like honeyed glass, his smile debonair and a bit naughty. He was still her man from the wine bar, still her enticer.

  “I’ve brought you a treat,” the man said in his creamy accent—a touch of Hong Kong on the surface, though Eva knew he actually came from a place much farther away. Months ago, she had found him waiting for her in the London streets, where she had been wandering in her nightgown. He’d kissed her softly, murmuring, “I see you’ve learned that I’m the only one who will guide you to true love.” From that moment on, she hadn’t remembered what had happened before—only that there’d been a stain of blood near a healing wound by her heart. Then he’d given her only his first name and nothing else.