by Kim Faulks
I closed my eyes listening to his heart slow. My body ticked like a cooling engine, winding down one beat after another. With each breath the darkness inched closer, dragging me under until the world faded away in one long breath.
***
I eased one leg out of bed and felt my muscles tremble. Marcus snored, then rolled. The sheets rippled with the sweep of his hand seeking my body. He made a grunt, then cracked one eye open. “Where are you going? Come back to bed.”
I smiled at this doe-eyed pup and wondered where my Bloodletter had gone. “My pack….”
His hand waved in the air. “Yeah, yeah. Always the pack. Go, find your people. Take care of your sister. Then, you’re mine. All day and night. You hear me?”
A chuckle slipped from my lips. “I hear you, dragon. Go back to sleep. If you want me all day and night, you’re gonna need your strength.”
His eye closed, a grin cracked wide. I eased a few steps before finding my balance and searched the corner of the room for what remained of my backpack. A pair of jeans, underwear and one torn shirt was all I had left. I clutched the shredded fabric in my fist, then dropped the mess to the floor.
I glanced to yesterday’s clothes and to the filth that stained fabric. Rowen’s cries and whimpers would stain my mind just the same. I snagged my jeans and underwear and climbed to my feet. A murmur from the bed turned my head.
I’d give anything to stride across the room and climb under the covers, to feel the warmth of this man’s body and just forget for a minute that the world existed outside these walls.
But how long does ignorance last? An hour, a day… sooner or later, though, the dream always ends. I shoved myself from the floor and tip-toed past the bed, toward the bathroom. The neat rows of tailored shirts drew my gaze. I glanced over my shoulder at the sound of his heavy breath and smiled.
I ran my fingers along razor sharp creases and plucked a pale green shirt from the hanger. I clutched the cloth to my face and breathed deep. The fabric smelled of sunshine and love, of old spells and even older terror.
Marble and stone filled the bathroom, black and red splashed the walls and the floor. I dropped the clothes on the bench then yanked open the shower door. My fingers skimmed along the glass, then over the tiled walls
I hit the handle and the stall filled with the hiss of water. I plunged my hand into the icy water, and felt the stream warm across my fingers, then my arm. I lifted my face towards the heat and sighed. I used the shampoo and the wash, scrubbing my body from head to toe until my skin turned ruddy and my hair squeaked clean.
The shirt felt like silk against my skin. I fingered the fabric and buttoned the sleeves. The green fabric skimmed my breasts and fell. I tucked the bottom into my jeans and yanked the zipper close.
My boots made no sound as I walked out of the bathroom, and past the bed. Marcus splayed his body wide, under the tented thin sheet I could see he was ready for me once more. A smile broke out as I strode to the door.
Muffled voices filtered from the far end of the house, but fun and laugher would have to come second—my sister came first. I turned right, leaving the laughter behind and followed the hall to a set of darkened stairs.
The thud of boots rang out at the base of the stairs. I slowed my steps and sniffed the air, scenting nothing but pine and dirt.
White teeth flashed as a snarl tore through the hallway. Hurron lunged from the shadows as I reached the corner slamming me against the wall. My head cracked against the gyprock, thoughts shattered. He slapped his hand over my breast, fingers pinched, kneading until I cried out. “Hurron, stop.”
His thunderous stare, held me, then drifted lower, lingering on the pale green shirt, two sizes too big for me. His eyes widened, a vein pulsed near his temple as he put two and two together. “I can smell him all over you. Deny it, I dare you.”
His chest crushed mine, forcing my spine to flatten against the drywall. I sucked in the air, turning my head as his mouth sought mine. Cruel hands gripped my jaw, dragging my face to his. “Get off me. Get the fuck off me.”
He dropped his head to the side, grazing the lobe of my ear with his teeth, before biting. “You’ve insulted me, and it’s not for the first time. But believe me when I say this, Abrial. It will be the last.”
I jerked my head away and bucked, slamming my head into his. The clash stunned my thoughts, stars scattered as he stepped away. His top lip curled in a sneer. “He can fucking have you. You’re nothing but a spoilt little whore. Watch your back, whore. I’ll be waiting.”
I grimaced at the word. The name couldn’t hurt me, but the cold look in his eyes told me Hurron wanted to do a lot more than call me vile names.
The creak of a door filled the hall. The old woman shuffled out into the hall, taking one look at me, and then Hurron. She lifted her hand and swept it through the air. “Shoo!”
He turned his head from the witch to me, then strode away. I waited for the sound of his steps to fade before gulping the air. My fingers trembled as I reached for my ear, swiping the flesh before checking my hand. No blood.
My knees locked as I took a step, finding a jerky rhythm to the open door. The old woman moved away, leaving me to follow in her wake.
“Thank you.” I whispered and closed the door behind me.
“I don’t have to tell you to be careful, especially with your sister here.”
I glanced over to the bed. Waves of anger rippled from my sister as she turned toward me.
“She’s been waiting for you.”
I exhaled. Tension coiled in my belly like a wounded snake. “I don’t doubt that.”
I swept my gaze over the markings on the wall. The glistening markings dripped along the wall. Sweeping in an arc of symbols and stick figure drawings a child would be proud of. The sun. The moon—they were everywhere. “Are you sure these markings will hold?”
“They’ll hold.” The witch snarled, then glanced to my sister. “For a while at least.”
Thick bandages covered the shaman’s arms from her wrists to her elbows. “Your blood?”
The shuffle stopped. The old woman lifted her head to glance around the room. “I told you they’d hold.”
I turned to the bed and caught my sister’s defiant glare, praying the old woman was right. “Okay, let me have it.”
Silence reared up to slap me. I waited, shifting from one foot to the other. Sea green captured me. The crusted corner of her lip twitched. She swiped the edge with her tongue, and waited. I clenched my fist, stilling the shake and took a step. All my life I’d waited for this moment, to see her, to touch her—to know she was safe. But in all my dreams I never imagined this.
Gone was the strong woman who stood before me hours ago. Here she was tiny, feeble like a newly hatched bird, just waiting to take flight. I sank to the edge of the large bed and opened my fingers. The spark of fear in her eyes was a dagger to my chest. I swallowed my pain and whispered. “I’m not going to hurt you, Rowen.”
She pulled away and closed her eyes. A harsh wheeze slipped from her moving lips.
I squinted, then leaned in close. “Did you say something?”
“I escape one hell, only to be locked in another.”
She opened her eyes. Hate stared back at me. I held her gaze, then looked away. “It’s not like that.”
“Isn’t it? Then enlighten me, sister. Tell me how it is.”
“It’s for your protection.”
She barked a laugh, then followed my gaze to the markings on the wall. “My protection? Seems a lot like for yours.”
“You’re wrong. No one will find you here. We’re safe.”
A knock boomed from the door behind me. I turned, watching the old woman shuffle toward the door as Rowen spoke. “You think the witch’s blood will keep him away? You’re so bloody naive, Abrial. Can you keep the night away? Can you keep the darkness from entering your mind?”
“Abrial.” The shaman croaked.
I shifted on the bed, turning to stare
over my shoulder. The stooped old woman filled my gaze. I stared at her tangled hair, the bones, the stick and the feathers as something snuck into my mind. “What is it?”
She shuffled one long step to the side, revealing the tiny wolf in the doorway. My chest lightened, I inhaled long and hard. “You scared the shit out of me.”
Odessa’s amber eyes glinted like fresh sap from a wounded tree. But the lone wolf wasn’t interested in me—she was staring at my sister. She took a step inside, barely giving me a glance.
The bed trembled under my hand. The tremble turned to a shudder. I wrenched my gaze to Rowen. One brow climbed under her midnight hair as she widened her swollen eye, straining to see. Her black pupil swallowed the green, leaving her eyes colorless. The sheet pulled taut. The slack wound up inside her clenched fists.
“You.” My sister hissed shaking her head. “It can’t be. No. No.”
The lone wolf tilted her head and closed the distance in one smooth stride. “You should’ve told me Abrial was your sister, Rowen. You should’ve told me a lot of things.”
Rage flashed in Rowen’s eyes. “It seems you can’t see everything then?”
A sound from the hallway lifted my gaze from Odessa. Buck’s hulking body overshadowed the tiny wolf.
Anger stung like a slap. “What, Buck? What’s so damn important that it couldn’t wait?”
I shoved myself from the bed and turned as the clash of steel and bone filled the room. The old woman stumbled to the side. Her shaking hands dragged a long dagger from a white bone sheath at her hip. Her mumbled words crowded my head and the air inside the room grew thorns.
“You can’t fight the darkness forever, Abrial.” My sister whispered behind me. “Sooner or later, he always wins.”
The cold bite of winter found me in the middle of the room as Buck shoved Odessa to the side. The splatter of blood glistened on his white beard. I followed the trail along his cheek, then dropped my gaze to his hand as a scream ripped through the hallway.
A cold fist drove through my belly. I took a step to the right, rounding the end of the bed to block his view and caught sight of the blade in his hand.
Blood dripped from the steel to splatter against the floor. His smile spread as the scream grew louder as the old woman crossed the room. But I was stuck on that scream—I’d heard them before.
Not just any woman’s scream.
It was Maddy’s scream.
No. I lunged for the door as the knife came down. Too late. I’m too late.
The thought spread as Buck finally looked at me and charged.
A muffled sound dragged me from the shower. I wiped the water from my eyes, but the goofy smile remained. The memory of her curves lingered and my body hardened in kind.
Bloodletter.
Corners of my mouth tugged higher.
Bloodletter….
The smile stalled, teetering for a second then died.
Bloodletter!
A scream filtered through the torrent. I held my breath, straining to listen.
Abrial? Another wail followed, and then another, and another, until the onslaught filled my head.
I twisted the taps and shouldered the shower door. Victor’s boom sliced through my skull as I snatched dirty trousers from the floor. Marcus! Where the hell are you?
Searing heat lashed my back as I stumbled for the door. A snap in my spine buckled my knee. I slapped my hand over my shoulder, probing shifting bones as they rolled under my skin. Spikes pushed against the surface.
Bloodletter, the wolf called, and my dragon came alive.
I stumbled and gripped my pants. My damp legs stuck to the inside as I shoved one foot through one leg, and then the other. The heady scent of her wolf filled me as I raced from the bedroom. I tasted her fear, her pain and her anger. My dragon rose toward the surface of my mind, powering like a locomotive at full speed.
Too fast… too much. I couldn’t hold the beast inside. I tightened my stomach and the handle slipped under my grip. I squeezed my fingers around the metal and twisted. Hinges squealed, a thud followed, as the door hit the wall and bounced.
My spine cracked, pain whipped along my spine, as one by one spikes pierced my skin and burst free. I grasped the wall and left those tortured cries behind.
“Abrial!” The guttural snarl slipped from my lips to boom through the hallway. The vibration lingered in my chest, but I knew the sound wasn’t my own.
I hit the corner and slapped a glistening hand against the wall. Pink flesh turned crimson under the overhead lights. My nails grew to black talons, the edge glinted like a razor. My trousers strained with each step as I stumbled down the stairs, toward the old woman’s quarters.
Marcus… We’re being attacked. Victor’s roar filled my head. But the wolf…. I clenched my jaw. The fist in my chest squeezed, until the muscle felt empty and dead—the wolf came first.
The steps blurred. My focus narrowed to the burn of my feet as they slapped the tiled floor. Not fast enough, still not fast enough.
A smear of crimson slowed my steps.
Whoops and swirls of a bloody caress marred the doorframe. I slammed into the frame, rebounding into the old woman’s quarters and scanned the room. A crumbled figure lay motionless on the floor. The stench of blood filled my nose. I forced my feet to move. “Shaman?”
Feathers and bones littered the floor around her. The old woman looked like a ghost, no more than layers of tattered clothes, small and lifeless.
Her blood glistened like spilled wine on the crisp white tiles, spreading tendril fingers along the cracks toward me. My bare feet left bloody prints as I waded through the muck and dropped to my knees. Fear stole the echo of my heart, leaving nothing but a dry hollow thud. I trailed my fingers along her hair, brushing the knotted strands from her neck. I scraped her skin with my claws, probing her neck with the pads of my fingers and searched for a heart beat.
“You can’t die. Do you hear me?” My dragon snarled.
The vein jumped under the pressure—a tiny throb of life—it was enough. I cradled her shoulders with one thickening arm and slipped the other under her legs.
Her head lolled against my chest as I lifted. The gaping wound at her neck yawned, white tendons peeked out through the torn bloody mess. A mortal would be gone forever.
Bloodletter!
I clenched my fist underneath the witch’s body as my dragon rose to the surface. Savage snarls through my mind ravaged my heart, tearing and shredding.
One slow jagged breath echoed from the frail woman. I held on tight. “I’ll find you somewhere safe to heal. I need you, do you hear me. I need you.”
Rage boiled like a broken furnace within me, spitting, hissing, spreading out to singe and blacken anything close. I lengthened my stride, making short work of the stairs. Shouts echoed through the hallway as I headed for my room. “No one will look for you here.”
My closet was big enough to hide someone so small and frail. I snatched the quilt from the bed and draped it under the shaman as I found my way to the back of the closet and knelt to the ground. The comforter smelled of sex and lust, driving a rusted nail into my heart.
I’m coming wolf. Wait for me. My dragon snarled, eager for blood. The deafening sound shattered good intentions. The old woman’s head slipped from my grasp and hit the soft pile with a thud.
The Bloodletter rose like the devil himself all fire and flames. I climbed to my feet and swayed. My body felt heavy and thick. The floor seemed further away as I crossed the bedroom and entered the hallway.
Bones crunched, then shifted, expanding my chest. I inhaled as wings sprouted, filling the hallway. Chucks of drywall littered the floor behind me as my talons tore through the gyprock. The hollow thud in my chest sped. My wings slammed against the wall and scraped the ceiling. I grasped the timber balustrade and leapt.
I hit the stairs with a heavy thud that tore through the house. A blur outside dragged my gaze to the glass wall as a boom rocked the room once more.
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Silver veins raced along the glass. Khaki stood out against the backdrop of evergreen as Sheriff Morse racked another round into the shotgun and took aim.
The deafening boom ripped through the room, shattering glass littering the floor. I ducked and wrenched my hands to my face and by the time I dropped my hands the Sheriff was gone. Shards impaled my shoulders and my arm. I pulled the slivers free as agony lashed my chest. Through the shattered glass wall hunched figures raced from the trees to descend on my home like a plague and the sickening feral stench of the Echo pack followed.
I scanned familiar faces for a spark of fire amongst the horror. Abrial!
Save my pack Marcus! Save my damn pack!
Her plea sounded muffled and strange, tinged with pain and torment. I clamped my wings against my body and edged toward the foyer as the patter of feet dragged my gaze toward the shattered wall. A female wolf from the Bloodstone pack scurried through. My heart lunged at the sight of her bare feet. “Stop. There’s glass everywhere!”
But I was too late.
The crunch of glass filled my ears and her panicked screams followed. I bit the inside of my mouth, swallowing the anguish and forced my feet to move. Agony lashed my soles like a hot iron as I reached for her. “Let me help. I won’t hurt you.”
She flinched, turning her fear-stained eyes toward me. My breath seemed to stutter in my lungs, tightening like a fist. Agony tore through my skull as horns pierced my forehead. My knees locked, then released as I swept an arm through the air. My fingers found the wisp of fabric then glanced across her hips as I grasped the female wolf’s waist and lifted.
“Don’t scream.”
The plea turned to a snarl as the sun faded through the broken glass wall. I lifted my gaze. The smell of wolf saturated my senses. Someone climbed over the courtyard wall and headed for the house. Thick hunched shoulders laden with fur was too big to be a woman and the sickening odor of male wolf assaulted me.
No.
I tried to focus on his darkened face as a warrior of the Echo pack crossed the light. Sunken fevered eyes, ravenous with death seized me. Blood dripped from the fur on his arm as he raised his hand. How many wolves had he killed? Steel glinted from the gun and I stared down the barrel.
