The Ending Series: The Complete Series

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  The blush started on my chest and burned its way up my neck. I cleared my throat and shot a cursory glance around the tent before I remembered that we’d had to burn the sweatpants I’d been wearing the previous night because they’d been soaked through with blood…and bits. Which sucked so much more because they were my last pair.

  “Here,” Jason said, reaching for something on his side of the tent. He handed me a pair of black leggings. “Camille gave these to me after you conked out…thought you might need ’em.”

  “Oh…” I took the soft, stretchy pants. “Thanks.”

  He lifted one shoulder. “Thank Camille.”

  “I will.” I pulled the leggings on quickly, then fished a pair of clean socks out of my duffel bag and wiggled my feet into my boots, which were much cleaner than they’d been when I’d removed them earlier that morning. “Did you clean these?” I asked, noting that the combat knife had been replaced in the boot sheath.

  Jason nodded.

  I offered him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

  He held my gaze, not returning my smile. “You scared the shit out of me last night.”

  I licked my lips. “I know.” I’d scared the shit out of myself, too.

  “Your eyes…” He shook his head. “They were different. You were different.”

  I looked down at my hand, watching my fingers toy with the leather at the top of my boot. When I spoke, my voice was quiet. “I know.”

  And I did know; I’d been less like me, and more like them.

  ~~~~~

  “Excuse me, um, Dani?” Ralph, a.k.a. prey, said from behind me.

  I was perched on a rock at the edge of the creek near camp. The afternoon sun shone high overhead, but its rays couldn’t warm the part of me deep inside, chilled with fear over what I was becoming. I glanced over my shoulder as I heard Ralph’s footsteps draw nearer.

  “Do you mind if I join you? I thought we might have a little chat sometime before you and your people continue on your way.”

  Widening my eyes, I brushed my palm against my borrowed leggings and bit my lip. I wanted to talk to him and had been planning to hunt him down later. “Now’s as good a time as any.”

  Ralph smiled, bowed his head, and crossed the creek. He sat on a rock a little larger than mine and scratched his graying beard.

  I picked up a small handful of pebbles and started tossing them into the water one by one. “So…what’d you do to get on their bad side?”

  “Scott and his pack?”

  I met Ralph’s eyes for the briefest moment. “Yeah.” I hadn’t known the leader’s name, Ray’s killer’s name—hadn’t wanted to—and now I felt like even more of a murderer. So much for vengeance being sweet…

  “Existed,” Ralph said bitterly. “Me and my son, Bobby—he was a drifter, too—we came out here after we realized how much we’d changed. I’ve had a cabin in the area for years, and living in a place secluded from people but teeming with animal life…” He shrugged. “It just felt right.”

  I nodded, finding that I could relate a little too well to what he was saying.

  “Scott caught wind of us a few weeks back and wanted us to join his ‘pack,’ but Bobby and me didn’t like the way their minds felt, especially not Scott and the other drifter in the pack.” He squinted up at the sun. “Like they weren’t quite human anymore. We thanked him and passed on his offer and returned to our new, secluded way of life.” He lowered his gaze, his warm, brown eyes meeting mine. “We’d already noticed the changes in ourselves when we drifted too much, and we decided it was time to use some restraint before we ended up turning into wild men like Scott and his pack.”

  I swallowed roughly. This was exactly the kind of thing that I wanted to talk about…that I was terrified to talk about.

  Ralph sighed and shook his head. “But it was too late for Bobby. He couldn’t stop. Every time he went to sleep, he ended up drifting, and every day, instinct ruled him just a little bit more…until about a week ago.”

  “What happened?”

  “He disappeared, and I found him two days later…at the base of a cliff.”

  “Was he, um…”

  Ralph raised his eyebrows. “Dead?” He nodded slowly.

  “Scott?”

  He continued to nod. “He didn’t mind us so much when we hadn’t ‘fully embraced the gift,’ as Scott liked to say, but once Bobby had, Scott claimed that he couldn’t allow a competitor in his territory.” Ralph sighed. “And then he decided his pack needed some entertainment, so they started hunting me.” He flashed me a weak smile. “When I felt your mind, I knew you’d be my only chance…that Scott wouldn’t be able to resist the pull of a female drifter.”

  I scowled, and when I spoke, my voice was flat. “So I was meant to be a diversion.”

  “I hate to admit it, but yeah.” He frowned. “But here you were with an army of humans and animals…couldn’t have guessed that.” His head tilted to the side. “Your connection with the creatures is different—deeper—and they trust you more, seem to genuinely care about your well-being, even accept you as one of their own, where they just tolerate the rest of us drifters playing at being a part of their kingdom. But then, it’s not like I’ve met many of us, and you’re the first female drifter I’ve met, so…” Again, he shrugged. “Makes sense that that sort of thing would matter to the animals.”

  A harsh laugh escaped from my throat. “Great…so when I turn wild, I can frolic around with all my animal friends and be their lady Mowgli. Awesome.”

  Ralph studied me for a long, uncomfortable moment. “So it’s started for you, too, then, has it?”

  I nodded. “Last night—or this morning, I mean—was the first time.” Another humorless laugh and shake of my head. “Went to sleep and woke up drifting.” I stared across the creek at him, pleading with my eyes. “Do you know how to stop it from happening?”

  Frowning, Ralph shook his head. “Once that starts happening, it seems to be inevitable that you’ll, well, you know…change.”

  I blinked, and a few tears escaped over the brim of my eyelids. “I don’t want to change; I want to stay me.” I hugged my middle and squeezed my eyes shut.

  “I wish I could tell you how to manage it, but it seems that’s something each of us has to figure out on our own. The best two pieces of advice I can give you are these: you’ve got to want to stop drifting with every fiber of your being, or else that part of you that takes over when you sleep is going to keep pushing you out into the critters—and you have to stop, now. If that means you try not to sleep for days, then you try not to sleep for days. Maybe the compulsion to drift will lessen the longer you go without doing it. Maybe…”

  I took several deep breaths, trying to collect what little remained of my tattered composure. My voice shook when I spoke next. “I see.” I was terrified, because I knew that a part of me never wanted to stop drifting, and I had no idea how to convince that tiny, stubborn part of me to give it up.

  Sometimes, I really hated myself.

  ~~~~~

  Standing beside Wings, I took a tiny bottle of caffeine pills out of my saddlebag, opened it, and shook a pill out to pop into my mouth. For the fifth time today. I hadn’t even tried to sleep the previous night, and even with the aid of the caffeine pills I’d lifted from Harper’s medical supplies while everyone was fussing over a returned and repentant Ky, I’d almost succumbed to the pull of sleep three times during the day’s ride; the resulting imminent fall could have been devastating.

  I dry-swallowed the caffeine pill, then tucked the bottle back into the saddlebag, glancing around to make sure nobody was watching me. At least we were done traveling for the day, so I wouldn’t have to risk sliding out of the saddle for another twelve hours. Of course, that also meant I had to get through my second consecutive night of resisting sleep.

  Tomorrow night, I told myself. I’ll try to sleep tomorrow night.

  “Red…”

  Startled, I jumped and spun around, only to
find Jason standing a few feet away, watching me. His eyes were tight with concern.

  “Yeah?” I said, skirting eye contact. I wasn’t sure if he’d seen me gulp down the pill.

  “Take a walk with me?” he said, holding out his hand.

  I looked over my shoulder at Wings. “But I have to—”

  “Carlos’ll take care of her.”

  “Yeah,” Carlos said, walking up and coaxing Wings’s attention away from me with the promise of an apple. “She’s an easy one.”

  “But…” I trailed off as I realized that only a few horses remained in the area near the paddock we were using to store the tack for the night while the rest roamed around, unburdened as they grazed. A glance off to my left told me the tents were already up in the corner of a tiny farm’s parched hay field, and the fire was well on its way to roaring. “How…?”

  “You must’ve zoned out,” Jason said, reaching for my good hand and linking our fingers when I showed no sign of intending to meet him halfway. “You were just standing there, staring at your saddlebag.”

  I closed my eyes in a prolonged blink, letting Jason lead me away from Wings and Carlos and our camp. He headed for the solitary, one-story farmhouse located on the other side of the almost nonexistent creek. A single row of tall, skinny trees covered in scraggly new growth lined the property as a windbreak. Jason led me around the house on a lawn that was so brown and patchy it blended in almost seamlessly with the barren desert floor surrounding it, only stopping once we reached the opposite side. He stared down at me, looming unintentionally.

  Sighing, I rubbed my eyes; they felt grainy from lack of sleep. “What are we doing out here? I still have to check in with all of the horses and set up scouts for—”

  “You’re off scouting duty,” he said quietly, calmly. “We can do it the old-fashioned way for a few days.” And still, he stared down at me. I felt like a preserved specimen in a jar.

  “What?” I blurted, first widening, then narrowing my eyes. “Why?”

  Jason stepped closer, his usually stony face finally showing some emotion. And his emotional displays were a lot like the desert climate we’d grown used to over nearly a month of travel: when it rained—especially when Tavis made it happen—it poured. “You’re exhausted.” Jason raised a hand and placed the crook of his index finger under my chin, angling my face upward. “Have you slept at all since Ben…since Ray—”

  I pulled my hand from his, taking several steps backward, and crossed my arms over my chest. It was a gesture of protection more than a gesture of defiance. I looked away—at the farmhouse behind him, at the dirt and dead grass beneath our boots, at the trees surrounding the yard—anywhere but at him. I couldn’t let him see the tears stinging my tired eyes. “Not really,” I said softly. Not at all.

  “You’re not eating, not sleeping…you’ve got to take better care of yourself.”

  I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, but inside I was screaming, I’m trying! I don’t want to lose my humanity! I’m trying to fix me! I both wanted and refused to tell him about my current predicament…about my apparent addiction to drifting. Having his support would mean everything, but he had enough on his plate without having to deal with my problems, especially when they were problems I practically dove into headfirst.

  “You don’t understand,” I said.

  Jason sighed. “But I do understand. Losing first the horses, then Ray, and now Ben…it’s hard. And then with those drifters, and what you did…you’re dealing with a lot.”

  “A lot?” I scoffed, a harsh, ugly sound. “Jesus, Jason…” I shook my head. “You couldn’t possibly understand.”

  “Then why don’t you explain it to me,” he said, his tone level.

  If he thought me sharing my feelings would help me move on, then fine—we could talk about Ray, and drifting, and…not about my soul-sucking addiction to it.

  I started pacing, the caffeine pill making me jittery. “When I drift, it’s like…like…” I threw my arms up in the air. Explaining the connection I shared with the animals—the connection I’d shared with Ray, that I’d been sharing with her at her moment of death—seemed impossible.

  “When I merge with them,” I said, “it’s like I’m a part of them and they’re a part of me…like the essence of who we are—our souls, or whatever—join together, and when I’m just me again, a piece of my soul is still with them, and a piece of theirs is with me.”

  I paused and looked down at the ground. “Ray was more than a pet, more than a friend…she was part of me, and when she died, I lost that part of me completely. It’s just…gone. And killing Scott didn’t bring her back…didn’t make the hurt go away. So now I have to deal with crushing guilt, too.” I raised my eyes to meet Jason’s. “So tell me again about how you get it, about how you understand.”

  Jason’s jaw clenched, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anyone,” he said, his voice low and cold despite the heartfelt words. “And when you were gone, you took a piece of me—my soul—with you.” He moved closer, his strides consuming the distance separating us. “So yeah, Red, I get it.”

  I stared at him, slack-jawed and slack-brained. “What?”

  “I didn’t mean to fall in love with you,” he said, as though that explained anything.

  “Fall in love…with me?”

  He let out a harsh laugh and ran his fingers through his short, dark curls. “It was never something I wanted—with anyone.” He looked at me, his eyes aflame with too many intense emotions: accusation—desire—anger—fear—love…

  He loves me?

  “I thought if I just got a taste of you, had my fill…” He shook his head, staring down at me with eyes of luminous blue fire. “I never wanted to fall in love, because I’ve seen what it does to a person when it’s taken away.” His eyes widened, like he’d just realized that I was both the monster in the dark and the hero who could chase it away. “And now I’ve felt it.” He squeezed his hand into a fist, then stretched out his fingers. His hand was shaking. “So don’t tell me I don’t get it.” His gaze hardened. “I get it.”

  Turning, he started to walk back toward camp.

  My arms slipped lower until they hung at my sides. “Jason…wait.”

  He stopped, his back to me and his body flush with the corner of the house. He turned his head, showing me his profile…his perfect, strong profile.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  Everything about him relaxed noticeably.

  I took a step toward him. Another. And another. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess, and I’m sorry that you have to deal with it, but I’m not sorry that you fell in love with me. I will never be sorry about that.” I stopped a foot or two behind him, making no move to touch him. “Please turn around.”

  He did so, slowly. When he finally faced me, he gazed down at me with familiar, guarded eyes. Somehow, the red in his scar only intensified the blue in his eyes.

  I couldn’t help but smile. I felt drunk and giddy and muddle-brained, and I couldn’t believe any of this was really happening, that he’d really just told me he loved me. It was the best possible thing at the worst possible time.

  “I thought I was in love with you when I was younger,” I said. I felt my smile grow, and I glanced away, embarrassed. I had to force myself to meet his eyes again. “And then when I got older, when I was with Cam, I convinced myself that I’d only fallen in love with the idea of you…that it had only been a crush, and that I’d barely known you, and that my feelings only seemed so strong because I was a teenager and everything is so extreme then.” I laughed softly and shook my head. “I convinced myself that I barely knew the real you.”

  Jason clenched and unclenched his jaw repeatedly.

  “But I was lying to myself. I think I was the only one besides Zo and your dad who you let catch even a glimpse of the real you.” I took a shaky breath. “I love you, Jason…so much. I’ve loved you for a very long t
ime.”

  I watched as his guarded mask cracked, fragmented, and fell away, baring the full force of his emotions to me. His eyes were so full of hope and wonder and desperation, his lips of promise, and his entire face was softened by what could only be called adoration…and love. He searched my eyes, back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. The intensity of him stole my breath.

  Wait…wait…wait…there’s something else…something I have to tell him…

  Before I knew what was happening, Jason’s hands were cradling the back of my skull, his fingers unintentionally tugging pieces of my hair from my braid, and his lips were on mine. His kiss was not patient, not kind. It envied and boasted and was proud…so damn proud. His kiss sought to dishonor me, and I sought for it to dishonor me and would have been angered beyond reason had it stopped. A cessation of the kiss would have been unforgivable. This, these lips on mine, this tongue dancing with mine…this was the first real, honest kiss Jason and I had shared.

  Except that it’s not an honest kiss, the very tiny coherent voice in the back of my mind said. You’re still lying to him, about yourself and about his past…his mom.

  Jason pressed me back against the house’s weathered siding, and I placed my palms on his chest. With a groan, I pushed, but instead of breaking the contact between our lips, Jason kissed me harder, deeper, more urgently. And damn it all to hell if I didn’t want him to stop. His hands were everywhere, and he felt so good, so strong and real and all mine…

  Again, I pushed against his chest. He froze, pulling back just enough for me to gasp, “Wait…stop…just wait.”

  Tension was a living thing vibrating along every tendon, through every muscle in his body. “Red…” Pain—desire unfulfilled—made the word a desperate groan.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, loathing myself for what I was about to do. “Before this goes any further, I have to tell you something.” I didn’t know why—maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe it was a desperate need to save face—but suddenly my knowledge of his mom didn’t seem like the biggest secret standing between us.