by Amy Miles
My mobile didn’t show any reply to my messages, so I headed for the pub. That was where he would have gone to escape his raging alcoholic father. The irony was not lost on me.
Only a few people nodded at me once I made it to the pub. I’d grown up with most of these blokes, and yet many avoided my eye. They didn’t quite know how to express their condolences, so they ignored me instead.
“Devlin. Good to see you,” the barkeep, Brian, said, shaking my hand.
“Thanks, mate. Have you seen Seamus?”
His face darkened. “Aye. I’m glad you’re here. I was just about to call him a cab. He needs to get on home before his mouth gets him into trouble.” Brian nodded over his shoulder to the pool table where Seamus stood with a pool cue in his hand. He was talking to two birds. Neither of them looked too happy with him. One look at how he was holding the pool cue perversely between his legs indicated why.
“Oh, Seamus,” I muttered. I loved that bloke like a brother, but when he drank he became a jackass. Like father, like son.
Just then, a big guy with a long beard approached Seamus. The next thing I knew, they were both shouting and Seamus lifted the pool cue up as though to hit the guy with it.
That was when fists began to fly. The big guy caught Seamus in the gut, causing the pool stick to drop to the floor. Seamus shook off the blow and then rammed into the guy’s waist, trying to knock him off balance. It was a tactic that might have actually worked if the drink hadn’t thrown off his own. Another guy joined into the mix, throwing a jab into Seamus’ ribs before I made it over there.
This wasn’t a time to talk. This was a time to throw punches and make apologies later. My fist made contact with the face of the guy going after Seamus with a resounding thud. His head spun around and blood seeped from his lips. I’d probably loosened a few teeth with a hit like that. The pain seared from my knuckles up my arm, but I shook it off to go after the second guy.
Seamus whipped his head around and saw me there. He smiled, but I didn’t return it. There was a big, black shiner over his left eye. A mark he hadn’t gotten here at the pub. At least not from the bearded guy. My blood boiled. His da must have started that shite again.
Taking out the rage I had for his da and for Alana’s death, I pushed Seamus out of the way and began to pound on the bearded guy until Brian and a few other patrons had to pull me off.
“Get out, the lot of ya,” Brian yelled, shoving us outside.
Seamus fell to the ground, laughing.
“That was bloody fantastic!” he yelled, getting up to his own shaky feet.
“No, Seamus, that was really stupid. Jesus! How do you get me into situations like this?” I was fuming, angry that I had lost control, angry at Seamus’ da, but mostly, I was angry with myself. I hadn’t been there for my friend before it got this bad again. Why hadn’t he told me? Then again, why hadn’t I reached out? Had that been why he retreated from us? Maybe he didn’t want to burden us with his da when we were going through our own personal hell. It was the sort of thing Seamus would do. Bear the pain so that someone else wouldn’t have to suffer.
Seamus looped his arm over my shoulder and dug a flask out of his back pocket.
“We deserve a drink,” he slurred.
As much as I wanted to rip that flask out of his hand and dump it square over his head, I didn’t. My nerves were like a live wire and I needed to calm myself down. I took a hearty sip off the flask, then took another for good measure.
“Did you see how that guy’s head whipped around when you hit him? It was like he was a goddamn rag doll.” Seamus laughed.
“I did,” I said, looking down at the ground. It was a sucker punch. The guy hadn’t seen it coming. He’d had no time to prepare, to fight fairly. It was a cheap shot and I wasn’t proud of throwing it.
“When are you going to learn to stop running your mouth, mate? I’m not always going to be around to save your arse, you know?”
At that, Seamus looked up at me. “Does that mean you’re going to America then?”
I shoved his arm off me. “That’s not what I meant and you bloody well know it. Christ, Seamus, you have to learn—”
Seamus stopped walking. “Learn what? To be more like you? Mr. Perfect?”
I frowned at his implication. I wasn’t perfect, far from it, and he, of all people, should know that. “You should learn to be less like your da,” I spat.
Seamus swayed a bit and took another drink. “Too late for that.”
I sighed and walked over to him to get a better look at his shiner. His right eye was swollen shut and the edges had gone a deep purple. Seamus didn’t let me get too close. He turned away and started walking.
“At least tell me you hit the son of a bitch back,” I called out after him.
Seamus waved a dismissive hand at me. He hadn’t. He didn’t take shite from anyone, but when it came to his da, it was as though he thought he deserved it and just let it happen. I knew that self-imposed martyrdom all too well.
“Come on, man, let’s get you home,” I said, catching up to him.
“Hell no. I’m not going back there. Ever again.” Even drunk, he sounded like he meant it.
I looped my arm over his shoulder and took the flask from him, finishing off the last of it.
“Good. You can crash with me then. First, we have a stop we need to make.”
The night was still young, and I didn’t want my folks to see Seamus in this drunken condition. The bruises I could make an excuse for, the drunkenness I couldn’t. He needed some time to sober up and I still wanted to visit the graveyard.
We stumbled our way down the dark dirt road that led to the cemetery. I opted not to go down the shortcut. Not because of Ma’s warning of spirits walking, but because I didn’t think Seamus would be able to maneuver the rocky path in his condition. Then again, the way my head was swirling around, I wasn’t convinced I could either.
“Have you ever been in love?” Seamus asked when we were a few metres away from the gate. His eyes were heavy, but his eyebrows were crinkled as though he was trying to be sober for a moment.
“I don’t know, mate,” I said, shifting Seamus’ weight as he leaned on me. The bastard was gonna have one hell of a hangover.
He stopped walking and placed his hands on my chest, more to steady himself than to stop me.
“No. I mean, have you ever like just found someone who took your breath away?”
My mind instantly flew to Taryn. “Aye,” I confessed too softly for him to hear.
“I wanna find that again,” he slurred, looking off into the distance.
“Again?”
He spun around a bit too quickly. I grabbed onto his arm so he wouldn’t fall. “I loved your sister, mate.”
“I know. You never told her though. Why?”
Seamus took a few steps away from me, waving a dismissive hand my way. “She never would have cared for the likes of me though. I wasn’t good enough for her. Even I knew that.” His head tossed from side to side like a bobble-head doll. “She was the only woman I trusted enough to love after my ma died.” He burst out laughing. “Guess I shouldn’t have, ’cause she died on me too.” More laughter. This time it had an edge of hysteria to it. “Everyone I love dies, and the wankers I hate”—he gestured to his face—“they all live on.” He rubbed his hands over his head a few times, ruffling his raven hair into a wild disarray. “Maybe Alana is better off. She doesn’t have to stick around and deal with shite like this.”
He stormed off into the cemetery and I let him. He needed a few minutes to get it together. Seamus didn’t like showing his emotions, so it was best to give him some time.
When he started singing at the top of his lungs I knew his emotional state had passed. He was back to being drunk and disorderly. Even though there was no one around, it still seemed disrespectful.
“Maybe we should just go home, Seamus,” I suggested as I walked into the cemetery. “Let you sleep this one off.”
&nb
sp; “Sleep? I’ll sleep when I’m dead!” he shouted, his laughing growing louder than his signing. “Get it? When I’m dead?” He bent over, holding his hands against his legs as he laughed.
A cold chill ran up my spine as I took another step closer to Seamus. I don’t know why, but a wave of dread filled me. The hairs on the back of my neck alerted me to an unseen danger. Something was not right.
“Seamus! Shut your trap. Do you hear anything?”
I whipped my head around, looking for whatever was setting my alarm bells off, but all I could see were the twisted shapes of the willow trees looming large in the moonlight. Their long branches cast massive shadows that shifted with the wind.
“What’s the matter? You scared of things that go bump in the night?” Seamus made a spooky sound with his mouth that turned into a growl.
“Knock it off, Seamus.”
Seamus continued to laugh as a different sound came through the moonlight. A rapid-fire snapping of branches. Almost as though a bull were charging at us from across the cemetery. My heart began to race while Seamus seemed oblivious to any impending danger.
“Shut up, Seamus! Listen! Can’t you hear that?” I tried to listen past the sound of my own heart beating.
“Hear what?” he shouted at the moon. “Is it the sound of your balls shrinking up into your arse?” Seamus bent over, tears of laughter overtaking him. He clearly didn’t hear the same sounds I was.
I spun around to face the gate area where the noise was coming from and froze. From out of nowhere, a shadow as large as a bear came leaping clear over the gate that was easily two metres tall. I ducked down low as it jumped over me, landing with a massive thump that shook the ground.
The beast continued its forward charge towards a still laughing Seamus, who had no clue what was coming for him.
“Seamus, run!” I shouted, but he was still bent over.
I searched the ground, looking for a branch or broken bottle to beat the thing away with, but just when I went to grab a large rock, I was knocked from behind. I landed with a thud onto the ground.
A blood-curdling scream came from Seamus and I looked back to see that the beast had him pinned to the ground. It was so dark I couldn’t make out what it was.
My side ached from where I had fallen, but I pushed myself up to my knees. Before I could stand I was shoved back down again. Hard.
“This isn’t your fight.”
My head flung up to the voice over my shoulder.
“Taryn?” Why was she here? And why did she just push me down?
“Keep your head down and stay out of sight,” she hissed. Her eyes were focused on the thing attacking Seamus, but all I could see was that she was hurt. Blood stained the back of her left leg. That was when I realised she wasn’t wearing a dress but a leather halter and skirt like out of a comic book. “If ya get in my way, your friend might not make it.”
Before I could object, she ran towards the beast, a translucent blade shining dangerously in the moonlight.
“What the hell?” I panted.
She was going after that thing, and judging by the way she was charging it, she knew exactly what she was up against.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
TARYN
I HAD SPENT THE entire day tracking the escaped Lorcan after it passed through the veil. The ferryman had been none too pleased with my demands to rush, but he too felt the danger. Once I arrived in the human realm, I began following its trail of madness across the village as it chased after the scattered survivors from this morning’s attack. I was relieved to find Tris holed up with several banshees and seen them racing back to safety of the ferry. Tris refused to leave my side.
Once the Lorcan sensed easier human targets, its focus shifted to a group of elderly playing cards. I was too late to save them, or the other victims it made throughout the day, but I’d find a way to save Devlin’s friend from the beast about to take him down.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Devlin trying to stand, but he held firmly to his side. He would hurt later, especially when the alcohol I smelt on his breath dissipated. He’d be fine. His friend was the one in danger.
“Get off him,” I shouted at the Lorcan and rammed into the crouching beast with enough force to bring the throbbing in my damaged leg back.
“Taryn, be careful!” Tris yelled. She clutched the herb bag Aed had given me tight.
My leg throbbed as the effects began to wear off, but there was no time to reapply. I’d just have to push through.
I rolled with it, curling my head under when we hit the ground. The weight of the Lorcan was suffocating for a few seconds before it rolled off. Its claws dug deep into the ground for traction but stopped only when it slammed against a headstone. The ground at the base of the stone uprooted, shifting it to an odd angle.
“Taryn, no! Get away from that thing,” Devlin shouted from behind me as the Lorcan regained its footing. It appeared slightly dazed. That was good because I wasn’t in top form myself.
It rose well over my height, staring me down with a hatred I felt deep within my soul. This one was not as large as the one I faced earlier in the day. It would not be as strong, but the obvious signs of decay told me it had been cunning enough to evade the reapers. I needed to be careful.
“Tris,” I called over my shoulder. “Keep Devlin back.”
“Who’s Devlin?” she asked, looking in the direction I had indicated. “Wait…do ya mean the human? He can see me?”
I heard the rising panic in her voice as she noticed Devlin staring right at her.
“Aye. I can see ya just fine.”
“What the bloody hell is going on?” Tris screeched.
“Human?”
I heard Devlin’s confusion as he moved closer to Tris.
“Why did she just call me human? As opposed to what?”
I ducked a wide swinging arm and narrowly missed having my head knocked off my neck.
“Now is not the time…for this conversation.” I dove to the right and scrambled back to my feet, dagger in hand, waiting for any sign of weakness in the beast.
Some of its scales were missing from its skin. Blood oozed down its chest and back. One of its claws had been ripped clean away. There were scorch marks from a reaper’s whip along its hide. It had fought hard to escape capture. Even with its injuries, it looked in better condition than I was.
“Keep him back, Tris,” I grunted and jabbed with my blade, aiming for one of the damaged scales but missed. My blade slid right off its armor and threw me off my balance.
The Lorcan breathed down my neck as I turned to run, knowing that if I didn’t put distance between us and Devlin, he might end up doing something to get himself killed.
I wove through the headstones as fast as my leg would let me, leaping over those that rose nearly to waist height, but with each landing I began to feel increasing amounts of pain in my calf return. The numbing effects of the herbs Prince Aed gave me were wearing off. I had to finish this Lorcan off fast.
I frantically looked all around me, searching for anything that might give me an advantage. The Lorcan lumbered loudly behind me, puffing like a train as it barreled through the darkness.
The cemetery was framed by black wrought iron gates. There were several weeping willows nearby that I could use to get the Lorcan tangled with, but that would force me to get much closer than I wanted.
Standing in the moonlight ahead of me was a mausoleum. I took in its height, the intricate scrollwork on the closed wooden doors, and noted the fine craftsmanship in the stone that might provide handholds for me to climb with.
A plan began to form in my mind as I ran, leading the beast in that direction.
“Taryn, watch out!” Tris shrieked.
I instinctively reacted by leaping over a dark patch of ground in front of me and landed on the edge of a hole. My arms pinwheeled as I tried to remain upright. Devlin’s hand grasped my arm and yanked me towards him.
“Let’s go,” he ordered.
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“No.” I pulled back. “I have a plan.”
With the Lorcan less than five feet behind, I turned Devlin to face off with the Lorcan, praying that its eyesight was not good in the night.
“Get ready to dive to the side when I tell ya to.” I placed a hand on his arm, ready to shove him to safety in case he froze.
The Lorcan’s nostrils flared and hot breath puffed from its lips as it lowered its head and charged.
“Come on,” I whispered.
Devlin looked between me and that monster heading directly for us. “Am I supposed to be the bait?”
“Aye.”
“Bloody hell.” He moved slightly in front of me in a protective stance. I saw his body go taut as if he expected to take on the full brunt of the charging beast for me.
I was sure up until the final second that the Lorcan would fall into the newly dug grave, but it sank the claws of its back feet deep into the edge of the carved earth and leapt.
“Shite!” I shoved Devlin as hard as I could and then dove after, landing on top of him. His grunt of pain mirrored my own but was lost to the raging howl of the Lorcan as it landed face first in the dirt. Its legs and arms flailed as it tried to right itself.
“Go, go, go. We have to move, now.” I grabbed at Devlin’s shirt and tugged for him to follow, but he didn’t move. “Devlin?”
His eyes were closed and his breathing steady but shallow. I pressed my hand to his forehead and realised he was bleeding. He must have hit one of the stones when I knocked him to the side.
Thinking fast, I looked at the mausoleum. Climbing would be tricky with my throbbing calf. I had already begun to bleed through again.
Glancing down at Devlin’s prostrate form, I felt at war with myself. It had been stupid to use him as bait. Could I really do it a second time?
I surged to my feet.
The Lorcan’s enraged howl made my blood run cold. I had never toyed with one of these beasts before and knew that if anything went wrong, I would be sacrificing Devlin’s life.
“Hold on, Devlin,” I whispered and sprinted towards the building.
