I couldn’t speak. I tried to ask him what he was talking about, but no sound came out of my mouth. He seemed like he knew what I was thinking.
“It’s all right,” he said with a chuckle. “You can have it. I won’t keep it from you.”
I stood there waiting. He reached for the strap on his shoulder and held out a brown bag. The bottom of the bag was stained a darker color, telling me there was something wet or even bleeding inside. He reached in, and I saw his fingers grasp something un-solid. He pulled his hand out, revealing what it was.
“Do you want it?”
I choked on the last bit of breath I had left. It was there—in front of me, and it was real. His fingers grasped a chunk of lovely hair. I saw empty eyes that were once full of hidden emotions and deep secrets that I would never know.
It was him.
It was Mike—or part of Mike. It was his head completely severed and still bleeding. His mouth was open, but his face didn’t have an expression of pain, which was better than if it had. I fell to the floor on my knees and tried to look away.
“Come on. Don’t be shy,” he said. “You can be just like him if you want. I can take you and James together if you would prefer a Romeo and Juliet type execution. Yes?”
I heard footsteps behind him. There was another. There was no doubt in my mind at that point that it was him. It had to be Dorian. I squeezed my eyes shut and heard that loud popping sound of gunfire again. I covered my ears and screamed. Three shots, one after the other without a second’s delay between them, but I didn’t feel any pain. I opened my eyes, and she was there, staring at me, seeming completely calm. I ran to her arms. I didn’t know what else to do.
“Luna,” I choked out.
“It’s all right,” she said. “You’re fine.”
“What about you?” I gasped, moving away from her.
“I’ll be fine.”
I noticed she was bleeding. It was covering the entire side of her pink T-shirt. “Fine?”
“It’s only my shoulder. I’ll be fine.”
“We have to get you to someone.”
“Jane, it’s all right,” she said calmly. “I know what I'm doing, okay?”
I nodded.
“You’re a wreck,” she demanded. “I’m making you some herbal tea, and I’m not taking no for an answer, all right?”
I nodded. I couldn’t do anything else. I stepped over Mike’s head and the thin, lengthy frame of the stranger with the gun, trying to pretend it was nothing more than a plastic movie prop or something from a dream.
“He’s a lousy shot,” I heard Luna say as I approached her in the kitchen. “Apparently, this isn’t one of his usual jobs.”
“How are you so calm?”
She smiled, handing me a warm mug. “It’s something you get used to after a while, I guess. I just realize that at the time, there is nothing to worry about. He’s dead, and we’re not, so…it’s all right.”
We took a seat on the couch in the living room.
“Mike is dead,” I choked out.
She sighed. “You knew him?”
“Not well,” I answered, “and from what I did know, I didn’t like, but still—he’s dead now. He’s…gone.”
She nodded. “I understand. Sometimes you just have to let things happen. Things will fall into place as they are meant to.”
“Meant to?” I questioned. “Do you really believe that?”
She nodded resolutely. “I do.”
“I don’t.”
“Why?”
“Things are meant to happen as you say. Like I was meant to lose my brother, the only person who ever truly knew me. My parents were meant to get divorced. I was meant to fall in love with a boy who was a member of some insane cult and meant to lose him in a fight to save my life. Meant to.”
She nodded softly. “I’m sorry. I know I can’t understand what you’re going through. Drink your tea, Jane. It will make you feel calm. I promise.”
I did as she said. It tasted a bit like grass but had a sweet flavor that lingered.
“What exactly is this?” I asked.
“Just some herbal tea like I told you. It has rosemary and other herbs from my garden. I picked up the recipe from a witch I met down at Coos Bay about a year ago. It does wonders for stressed minds.”
I nodded.
“I need to ask you a question,” she said.
“Okay.”
“Do you know how to sew, Jane?”
I stared at her for a moment, not entirely sure what she was getting at. “Um…my mom taught me a bit when I was young. I couldn’t make a dress or anything.”
“But you know how to thread a needle.”
“Yes.”
“Good. Here.” She handed me a needle and thread.
“Luna?” I questioned, my hands quaking. “Why?”
“Thread the needle. I’m going to need you to be brave, all right?”
“What?”
She pulled her T-shirt over her head, and I saw the injury on her shoulder. Jagged edges of the wound were protruding from the torn flesh.
“I need you to sew this up for me.”
“What?” My voice raised an octave and came out trembling. That’s when I noticed the aluminum case with a red cross on it, sitting on the coffee table in front of me.
“Jane, I cannot do this myself, okay?”
“Can’t we get you to a doctor?”
“And tell them what?” She raised her eyebrows at me. “I need to remove the bullet first. You don’t have to look.”
I turned away, trying to ignore her heavy breathing and gasps of pain. I heard the plunk of the bullet being dropped into the cup of water on the coffee table.
“Okay, are you ready?” she asked.
I nodded reluctantly. I threaded the needle with trembling hands. It took me at least three tries before I succeeded and moved the needle toward the gash.
I started to cry. “I can’t!” I sobbed. “Luna…I’m sorry. I—”
“Jane, listen to me. I need you to do this. I know you can. I know you are strong enough.”
I shook my head, and my chest started shaking with my sobs.
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” she said sternly. “I know you can. I need you to.”
I couldn’t just do nothing, could I? The thought of pushing a needle through skin sickened me, but I knew I had to do it. I moved the needle toward the wound again and pressed it into her skin. I groaned in disgust at the popping feeling of the needle penetrating. She winced but didn’t make a sound. I tried my best to stay strong and keep myself from being sick. I pulled the needle through and continued, trying to ignore the lines of blood streaming from the holes I was putting into her.
“Jane, there’s a small bottle of alcohol on the counter in the kitchen.” I could hear the pain in her voice even when she tried to hide it.
I nodded and got the alcohol. I opened the first aid kit and used a cotton ball to clean her wound. She gasped.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“It’s okay. I’m fine. Are you okay?”
I nodded. “I told you I’m not very good at sewing.” I looked at the crooked stitches, even some overlapping others. I put a thin piece of gauze over it and taped it down. “I hope this is good enough.”
“It’s fine,” she told me. “It will do the job until I can get James here.”
“You think he’s coming back, Luna?”
She smiled. “If you think he isn’t, you don’t know James.”
She was a very lovely person, easy to trust, but no matter what she said or how sensitive she was, there was nothing she could do to put me at ease.
Chapter Nineteen
It was well into the morning of the next day when I was almost asleep. I tried to imagine Aidan beside me, back in the days when things weren’t so messed up. It did little to help; not even my imagination was active enough to feel his arms around me. I sighed rolling over and instantly found myself sittin
g up in bed when I heard a knock on the front door. I raced to the door and almost shoved Luna out of the way to get there first.
When I opened the door, the picture I had in my head of what I was expecting was torn to shreds. The morning was dark, but a small gleam of sunlight was peeking over the hills, glistening through the trees. It was moist outside like it had been raining all night. Clouds ringed the gray sky, and misty fog sheathed the grass. It made what was coming seem even more like a nightmare. My words were suppressed by sudden terror. I tried to speak, but my voice was caught in my throat. He was frozen stiff, not moving. I couldn’t even tell if he was breathing. The look on his face told me he didn’t want to look at me, that he was dreading what was coming. Finally, I was able to speak one word.
“Rudy?”
He seemed to understand me even when I was sure no sound was coming out when I asked, “Where’s Aidan?”
He pulled his eyebrows together, and a sound escaped his lips as though he were trying to speak but was as numb as I was.
“Rudy?”
It was then that I finally noticed his brown shirt was covered in blood, and a deep gash on his forehead dripped blood slowly down his cheek. He shook his head slowly. He had confirmed my nightmares with one small gesture. Before I realized it, I was in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably and smelling the blood on his clothes. There was this pain tearing at me, clawing through my chest.
“Jane.”
I was able to pull away and look at him.
“Ethan is okay.” He forced a crooked smile.
My heart rate sped up, and I could feel myself shaking. The relief and the pain all at once was too much to handle, and all I could do was cry. I couldn’t decide if the tears were happy or sad. Ethan was alive—but Aidan was gone. Forever.
And again, as I should have expected, I heard that word—the word that was only ever meant for me, the word that only he would say. It was my name but never sounded like it. It was like some resonance in my brain that shook through me and tore away my sanity for a brief moment. Though it always left so soon, it kept me wondering if it had ever really been there in the first place. I couldn’t move at first when I saw him, but I forced my legs to unfreeze. I ran through the wet grass as fast as I could as though he were going to disappear into the fog if I didn’t get to him soon enough. I pressed myself into his chest.
“I thought you were dead.”
“I promised you I’d come back, didn’t I?”
He was smiling. He didn’t appear hurt. That’s when I remembered Rudy and the blood on his clothes. I gasped and glanced back at the doorway. He was staring blankly, but I thought I saw him suppressing a smile.
“The blood isn’t his,” Aidan said.
“You’re both okay?”
He nodded.
“And Ethan?” I peered behind him.
“I convinced him to wait for you at home. He’ll be there.” He wiped the tears from my cheeks. “We’re all okay…” His words faded, and he peered behind him.
“Aidan?” I whispered.
“Oh God.” His voice swelled in his throat. “LUNA!”
I looked toward the doorway and saw Luna frantically running into the house.
“Hurry!” he called. “Jane, go to Rudy!”
“What?”
“Go!” he demanded. “Now! Run to him!”
I turned and started running. My legs lagged behind my body, but I pushed myself to move as fast as I could. As soon as Aidan’s cry reached my ears, I halted and turned in his direction.
I felt my chest burning, and my blood ran cold. I had never seen Aidan look so helpless. This time, it really was Dorian. He held Aidan effortlessly in his grasp and yanked his head back by his hair.
“When will you learn to do as you’re told?” he spat.
“I will kill you first,” he groaned. “I swear.”
“Oh, will you now?”
I just stared, not sure what to do.
“Run!” Aidan called.
Run? How could I run? It was me he wanted, wasn’t it? It had always been me. I couldn’t let Aidan take the fall for me. I refused.
“Why don’t you just admit it’s me you want!” I called.
Dorian’s eyes darted to me, and I felt my breathing quicken.
He pushed Aidan to the ground and stepped toward me. “I’d rather make him kill you.” He snickered, pointing to Aidan as he continued to move through the fog, closer to me.
I took a step back. What could I do now? I glanced at Aidan still on the ground, unmoving.
“He can’t kill me if he’s dead.”
Dorian laughed that dry, husky laugh I remembered. “Oh, he’s not dead,” he answered. “Not yet anyway. He’ll wake up in a bit with nothing more than a bad headache. It would only make sense for him to kill you. That’s his job, Miss.”
I felt my limbs shaking in fury. I wanted to tear him apart with my bare hands. He wouldn’t kill me. I knew he wouldn’t. He wanted Aidan to do it. He couldn’t take my life himself.
“He isn’t one of you,” I said. “He never truly was.”
He smiled devilishly. He was so vile. “If only you knew. If only you knew what he’s done.”
Don’t listen. He’s trying to distract you.
He was inches away from me now, but I didn’t back up.
“Maybe I’ll just kill you myself after all,” he said. “Just for my own comfort and enjoyment.”
“You wouldn’t,” I taunted.
“Do you want to test that little theory of yours?” he sneered back, still with that foul smile on his face.
He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, and I braced myself, prepared to be staring down the barrel of a gun, but he pulled out a knife. The blade was tarnished, and I could easily see the blood that had never been washed off. All Dorian ever wanted was to kill me, so what was stopping him now?
He took another step forward and froze for a moment. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“Not her!” I heard. “It can never be her!”
Oh God! Luna!
I saw her emerge from behind Dorian to stand beside me with a knife in her hand, dripping with his blood. Why not use the gun?
Dorian stumbled toward me again.
“Jane,” she whispered, “run.”
I did run this time—into the house, ignoring Rudy’s pleads for me to slow down. I even felt him grab my arm at one time, but I tore him away from me. I scrambled around frantically searching for the pistol Luna had used to shoot the man who killed Mike. I grabbed it off the table by the china cabinet and raced back outside, holding it in position the entire time. I was no longer frightened. I was angry. I shoved Luna out of the way and fired—not once, not twice, not even three times. I just kept shooting as though I couldn’t stop.
“Jane!” Luna screamed. Her words tore me out of my fury, and I lowered the gun.
I didn’t even look at her. I couldn’t take my eyes off Dorian. He was on the ground, soaking the grass with blood. It pooled out of him the way I never thought blood could. It spread rapidly to my feet, soaking my shoes. I never knew there could be so much blood in one body, no matter the size. I didn’t even know how many times I shot him, and I didn’t care.
“Jane,” Luna whispered.
I glanced at her this time.
“Guns aren’t our way!” she spat and tore the pistol from my hand.
“What?”
“The gun was meant only for emergencies,” she demanded, shaking the weapon at me.
“And this wasn’t an emergency?”
She sighed. “Guns aren’t our way,” she repeated.
I heard Rudy as he approached Luna. “She just killed a man. Try to show a bit of sensitivity.”
She huffed and shoved past him, walking quickly back to the house.
“Are you okay?” Rudy asked.
I nodded. “I think so.”
My eyes were fixed on Dorian again. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I c
ouldn’t see him, not the way I used to. He was a mess of flesh and blood as if he had never been anything more than that.
“Aidan,” Rudy announced, rushing toward him. I followed behind him and knelt beside my love.
“Aidan?” I whispered.
He groaned and lifted his hand, sitting up. “I’m all right. I’m not hurt.”
I wrapped my arms around him.
“Okay,” he groaned. “Not completely unhurt. Gently, Jane.”
I moved away from him. “I’m sorry.”
“Dorian’s dead,” Rudy whispered.
Aidan nodded. “I heard the gunfire.”
“That was Jane.”
“What?” Aidan said, peeved. “I told you to run.”
“I…didn’t listen.”
He sighed. “Of course you didn’t.”
Rudy grasped Aidan’s arm and helped him stumble to his feet. “Come on.”
I felt my breath explode. I didn’t realize I had been holding it. I forced a whisper. “Thank you.” I found myself in Aidan’s arms once again.
“Rudy will take you home,” he said softly.
“What about you?”
“You’ll see me soon.” He chuckled. “I promise.”
His laugh brought me back to the days when I wondered about him, when everything he did was mysterious.
Rudy came up behind me and tenderly took my hand.
“Come on.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off Aidan. Rudy practically dragged me away from him. Aidan was smiling the entire time.
“What did Luna mean?” I asked Rudy. “About the gun.”
“The hunters don’t…believe in guns.”
“Believe?”
He nodded, not taking his eyes off the road. “They kill with knives. According to Aidan, killing an enemy with a gun is only acceptable when the enemy has first broken the rule.”
I nodded, remembering the man in my room who had in fact used a gun.
“But Luna…she isn’t one of them.”
He nodded. “I know, but I’ve talked to Aidan, and I understand what he means when he says that it’s hard to shift your beliefs when you’ve believed something for so long. She felt Dorian should have died by his laws.”
Summers' Deceit (Hunters Trilogy Book 1) Page 20
