by J. E. Taylor
“I’m okay,” I said, but my shaky voice belied my words. I silently cursed at my inability to stabilize my emotions.
“You’re about as okay as I am,” he said and raised an eyebrow.
It never occurred to me that anyone else would have a big empty space in the middle of their chest like I had, but on closer inspection, Travis’s eyes were more bloodshot than normal. It wasn’t cold enough outside to warrant the redness on the end of his nose that matched the lines traversing his eyes.
Anyone just glancing at him would have surmised he had been tossing whiskey back all night at the local pub. But I knew better. I knew what those signs meant in my best friend. He hadn’t been able to curb his sorrow, either.
He pointed his chin at the inside of the cabin. “Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to let me in?”
“I’m not up for company,” I said and felt about as good as a piece of horse dung about that.
“That’s what Remy said when I passed the group.” He stepped closer as if he was going to pass my body blockade.
I put my arm up against the door jamb, stopping him dead.
Travis sent a sideways glance at me. The crease between his eyes was deep enough to broadcast his irritation.
“Are you serious?” He straightened his back and glared. “Do you think you’re the only one grieving?”
I opened my mouth to reply, but I didn’t have any comeback that wouldn’t hurt him more than he looked. It wasn’t like him to get angry with me, either. I shook my head and stepped aside so he could enter.
“I’m sorry. I’m just not in the mood for anyone to be here,” I said and closed the door.
Travis took a seat on the couch. “I’m not just anyone.”
He was my best friend after all, and even though he had delusions of a future with me, I couldn’t deny he had always been there when I needed him. If Lucas hadn’t been in the next room, I probably would have had a house full of people offering condolences and casseroles, and he would have been at my side fending people off so I could have some peace.
“I know.” I turned away and headed into the kitchen to keep myself preoccupied. I couldn’t pass off the thundering of my heart or the heated flush now filling my form as mourning. If I stayed by the hearth, Travis would soon figure out something else was digging at my nerves more than my grandmother passing.
I stared at the jar of Gram’s cookies.
A hand on my arm pulled a yelp from me and I spun, staring at Travis with wide eyes. I hadn’t heard him cross the room.
“You haven’t heard a word I said.”
I shook my head.
“Have you picked out your grandmother’s final resting clothing?”
I recoiled at his words, stepping back like he had produced a rotten tomato. It was as if he’d yanked the hurt right back to the surface where it burned. I didn’t want to pick out the clothes she would be buried in. I wanted her burned and her ashes spread on the four winds like we had always talked about.
“Gram didn’t want to be buried,” I said. “Neither one of us want to be put in a pine box in the ground.”
He arched his brow. “You still need to provide the doctor with clothing, and then they will bring your grandmother to the church for viewing.”
I stared at him, my brain unable to comprehend what he was saying. “I thought they’d bring Gram back here?” At least that was the custom I was used to in this town. Calling hours happened at the home of the deceased. As far back as I can remember, Gram and I would walk into town to pay our respects and then come back home until the burial. But in this case, I had promised Gram I would burn her remains after the calling hours and just have a headstone which held up the pretense of her being buried. Now, I’d never get the chance to do what she expected me to. The only bodies that were cremated were those that were riddled with disease. Burning a non-diseased body was frowned upon and thought of as blasphemous.
“You live all the way out here,” he mumbled and stared at his feet. “I can take whatever you’d like back to the doctor so he can get your grandmother ready.”
“Wrap her in cheese cloth and douse her in kerosene. She wants to ride the winds to wherever God chooses to plant her ashes. She never wanted to be stuck in a box in the cold hard ground.”
“You know that isn’t right,” he started.
My glare shut him up. “Have them bring Gram here. I’ll take care of her.”
“Red, they aren’t going to do that. Both the doctor and the priest insisted on having the services in town. Your grandmother was loved by every single person in this village, and they want to honor her.”
“No, they don’t. They don’t want to honor her wishes. They want to do what they feel is proper. And so do you. Just go tell them to bring her body back here!” I yelled and pointed at the door.
Travis turned and headed down the hallway into uncharted territory. Before I could stop him, he pushed open the first door on the right. My bedroom. Where Lucas was hiding.
Travis froze in place with his mouth ajar and his good hand still flat on the wood. The creak of springs followed.
“Who the hell...” he started and then took a quick step backwards into the far wall, his eyes even wider than before. “What the...” His gaze landed on my quiver a few feet away.
Before I could move, he had an arrow in his hand and charged into my room holding the thing like a dagger. I was on his heels in a flash, but not before he struck out at Lucas.
Lucas parried, knocking Travis’s good arm away, but the sizzle of silver on skin and a burning stench filled the room.
“Travis, stop!”
He was nearly feral with his lips peeled back and a snarling growl coming from his throat. I would have thought the beast in the room was my best friend, not the man trying to defend himself against a silver arrow.
Travis got a few licks in before Lucas grabbed the shaft and snapped the wood, tossing the silver part aside, but the damage was already done. The black burns where the silver met his skin was proof enough that he wasn’t human.
Travis launched at him, digging the broken wood into Lucas’s shoulder. Lucas bellowed and pushed him backwards, putting enough distance between the two of them for me to step in.
I turned my back on Lucas, and faced Travis with my hands out. “He tried to help Gram,” I said. “He kept her safe until I found her.”
“Bull! Why the hell is he still breathing? You took a damn oath when you were sworn into the Guard, Red. Your only purpose is to kill those things!” He pointed at Lucas.
“No. My oath is to protect the people of Dakota from harm. To take down our enemies, and to preserve our way of life. It isn’t to kill just because someone is different.”
“I bet he is the reason your grandmother is dead,” he snarled.
“He’s the reason she made it back to this town alive,” I countered.
“Traitor. You’re just as damned as he is,” he snapped and closed his fist around the hilt of his silver blade.
“You’re the tracker. Go see for yourself. You know how to read the land. If you see something other than what Gram told me, then by all means, I will do my job,” I said. “But my job is not to kill an innocent man who tried to help a hurt woman just because of his heritage. He protected her from the more savage beasts that would have torn her to pieces.” I took a breath and lowered my arms. “My job is not to commit an act of murder.”
His gaze hardened and fixed on me.
The blade shot out of its sheath, and hot fire engulfed my forearm. I pulled my arm to my body and stared down at the tear in the fabric.
“Did you just cut me?” I yelled as blood discolored my sleeve.
Travis stared at my bloody arm and pressed his lips together. A mixture of disgust and fury filled his face and he turned, marching right out of the house without another word.
“Damn it.” I crossed into the bathroom and rolled back the sleeve. The cut was deep, but not deep enough to have hit any major veins.
I pulled out the gauze from the cabinet along with some disinfectant. Before I attempted to patch myself up, Lucas took the bottle from my hand.
“It’s the least I can do for you,” he said quietly and poured some liquid over my cut.
I drew a sharp inhale through my teeth, but didn’t make any other noise at the sting sizzling over my wound. He dabbed a cloth to dry the area and then wrapped my forearm in gauze until the damage was covered enough for the blood to be a light pink through the layers. It was a good war wound patch. I glanced up at him after he stowed the disinfectant and gauze away in the cabinet.
“What about yours?” I nodded to the singed tears in his shirt.
“I’m fine,” he said and gave me a crooked smile.
“I think I’ll be the judge of that,” I said.
Lucas rolled his eyes and pulled his sleeve back. The black welt on his arm was nothing like the cut I had. It looked as if he had been branded instead of sliced, and there was no blood to clean up. I reached out and ran my fingers over the rough patch. He pulled his arm away with a grimace.
“What about your shoulder?” His shirt showed red patches where he had pulled out the wooden shaft Travis had stabbed him with.
Lucas pulled the shirt aside so I could see the perfect skin of his shoulder. I lifted my eyebrows.
“We heal pretty quickly when we are hurt with something other than silver.”
“Oh.” My gaze dropped to the blackened marks on his arm. “Gram has an aloe plant in her bedroom. It might help.”
He cocked his head.
“It’s for burns.”
“I’ve never heard of it,” he said.
I took him by the elbow and led him into Gram’s room. On the top of the bookshelf sat a green plant with thick tapered stems sat. I stopped in front of it and pushed his sleeve away from the burns. Reaching up, I grabbed a stem and snapped it. Clear salve oozed from the broken limb, and I quickly drew it across the burn, covering it in the clear goop.
“That actually feels... pleasant,” he said, his voice carrying a surprised lilt. He reached beyond me and broke another piece off, covering another welt. When he reached again, I stopped him.
“There is plenty in the piece you have. Just squeeze from the tip, and more aloe will come out.”
He did as I instructed, and a smile formed. He looked like a child who had discovered a golden pebble in the brook. It was the kind of smile that made me forget my sorrow.
I glanced around the room, and reality settled in. Travis was mad enough to do something rash like mouth off to the Guard, and if he did that, my life was over. I wasn’t going to be able to honor Gram’s wishes as far as a funeral was concerned, but I could follow through on her last request. I could make sure nothing else happened to Lucas.
I glanced up at him, and an urgency gripped me. How long had it been since Travis stormed out? Damn it. I turned and left Gram’s room. My heart squeezed against the thought of leaving everything I knew, but I had to if I was going to live to see another full moon.
I diverted my focus away from the crippling loss and onto the things that truly mattered to me. If I could just lasso the cottage and drag it with me, this would be so much easier. I hoisted the bow and quiver over my shoulders and grabbed the cookie jar off the counter in the kitchen. In my room, I tossed what little clothing I had into a knapsack along with the cookies.
I glanced at Lucas standing in the doorway, watching me with a perplexed ridge between his eyes.
“We have to leave. Now,” I said and grabbed the last item that meant more to me than everything in my backpack combined. The comforter my grandmother quilted for me.
When I turned back to the door, Lucas stood holding the potted aloe plant and wearing a sheepish smile along with his saddlebag slung over his shoulder.
It was my turn to roll my eyes. However, it was a useful plant to have around, so I didn’t give him any grief. With my pack full and the blanket slung over my shoulder, I headed for the back door and an unknown future as a fugitive.
Chapter 10
I made it three steps into the open when every last one of the guardsmen stepped to the fence with their bows drawn.
My heart leapt into my throat. I didn’t dare turn to see if Lucas was behind me or not. If he had stepped out of the house, he was just as exposed as I was.
“Please don’t shoot him. He tried to save Gram,” I said, lifting my hands so they could see I wasn’t armed.
“I don’t care. He needs to be put down.” Remy’s growl came from my right.
I turned, taking a step back so I was closer to Lucas, along with providing us a little protection from the arrows by using the wall to the bathroom as a buffer for our backs.
I knew these men. They were trained to kill werewolves without hesitation. The only reason Lucas was still standing was because I was blocking his front and the house blocked his back.
“Gram asked me to keep him safe,” I argued. “It’s what she wanted!”
“Move, Red.” Remy stared down the shaft of his arrow, lining up the shot.
“Have I ever lied to you?” I glared at Remy and then glanced around at the rest of the Guard, until my gaze landed on Travis standing next to Remy. “To any of you?”
“He has you under some sort of spell,” Travis said. “One where you’ll say anything to keep him alive.”
I took a breath because I needed to weigh the words that parked at the tip of my tongue. Another life besides ours was in the balance, but if I didn’t offer an objective viewpoint, one that would collaborate with what I was saying, there was no way Lucas would make it out of this corral alive. If I moved, Lucas was dead. If I didn’t, I had no idea what the Guard would do, especially if they truly thought I was compromised.
“If you don’t believe me, ask Doc Wilton. He was there. He heard Gram tell me to make sure nothing happened to Lucas.”
Remy’s arrow wavered, and he stood taller, measuring my words.
“The doc knew about him?” He pointed his chin towards us.
“Yes.” I said. “Besides, when the hell have you ever seen a wolf put a spell on a human?”
“When a human has been bitten.” Remy’s eyes narrowed in Lucas’s direction.
“I have not been bitten,” I spat out the words like bitter medicine.
“Prove it,” he replied.
The hair on the back of my neck bristled, and I balked at the head of the Guard. I had seen Remy do this before. When one of the guards came back from a hunt alone. I knew what command was coming, and I wasn’t in a complying mood.
“How would you like me to prove my innocence?” The growl in my voice was evident. I was sure my glare matched the warning.
The corner of Remy’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “Strip.”
“I will do no such thing!”
Remy’s arrow returned to the taut bow. “Last chance.”
I pressed my lips together as heat flared in my face. The last thing I wanted to do was remove my clothing in front of the Guard, but that was the only way we would be able to walk out of here. I handed the blanket tossed over my shoulders to Lucas. Unfortunately, that uncovered the bow and arrows slung over my arm.
“Drop your bow slowly,” Remy warned, his face as tense as his bow.
I clenched my hands into fists and closed my eyes, pushing the aggravation crawling over my skin away. I held my hands out to the sides with my fingers splayed as I lowered my shoulder. The bow and quiver slid down to my elbow, and I straightened my arm, letting it drop to the ground.
Remy’s bow relaxed, and his hard gaze met mine. He knew I could have taken out a handful of guardsmen before any of them got a shot off, and I thought maybe that action alone would let us off the hook.
“Strip,” Remy said when I didn’t move.
Grinding my teeth together so I didn’t tell him exactly what I thought of his order, I slid my boots off and then my socks, showing him the top and underside of each foot before I continued. My knickers
came next, and I slowly turned so everyone could see that I had no bite marks on my lower legs. I hesitated at peeling off my drawers, debating on whether it was better to take off my top first. I was hoping Remy would back off, but I knew better.
The heat in my face spread into my neck and chest, and my fingers fumbled with the buttons on my shirt.
“Is this truly necessary?” Lucas said from behind me.
“Yes,” I said at the same time as Remy and some of the other guardsmen. I glanced back at Lucas. “As mortifying as this is, it is necessary. So just shut up,” I snapped.
I got to the last button and closed my eyes as I dropped the shirt to the ground, exposing my bare chest. I fought the instinct to cover my breasts and kept my hands busy by dropping my drawers. I stepped out of the fabric towards Remy, put my arms out perpendicular to the ground, and did the slow turn so he could see all my exposed skin.
“Lift your braid,” Remy said.
I did as he asked. When I completed my revolution, I lowered my arms and waited for the next set of instructions.
“Get dressed,” Remy growled.
I did but I remained blocking Lucas just in case anyone decided to take matters into their own hands and kill the wolf. Once I was fully clothed, I glanced at Remy. A chill rolled across my skin, manifesting my shock. Remy’s bow and arrow weren’t at the ready. In fact, they were by his side. Only a couple arrows were pointing in our direction. I missed something significant.
When he stepped into the corral, Remy held his hand out. Travis placed silver shackles into his palm, and Remy approached me with an unreadable expression.
“You were always good at those potato sack races,” he said and offered me the shackles. “Wrists and ankles.”
“Really?” I snatched the silver from his hands and held it up between us. “You could have just handed me this.” I shook it for good measure, again proving to the Guard that I hadn’t been bitten.
One side of his lips curved and he shrugged. “You betrayed the Guard. I think a long look at the goods was warranted.” The hint of humor faded at the low growl that came from behind me. “Cuff him, Red. One on each of you.”
