by Rachel Lee
Markie held up her hands. "And that, in a nutshell, is the legend of Annie Black."
Alice shuddered and looked from one to the other of them. "What I want to know is why I saw her."
For that, Markie had no answer.
9
After Buddy arrived, Declan and Markie escorted Alice home, watching from Markie's car until the older woman was safely inside and waved from a window. Kato whimpered, just briefly, then quieted as they pulled away from the house.
"Let's go to my place," Markie said. The files they'd been working on were in her trunk, along with Dec's map. "We can work on the map there."
"Sure."
But the truth was, she didn't want to be at home alone. Never in her life had she felt so…exposed. Somehow at risk. Telling herself she was being silly and overreacting wasn't helping. She just knew that if she were home alone with Kato and he started howling like that, she was going to become as much of a basket case as Alice had been.
The realization shamed her, but there was no denying the truth of it. She was possibly more unnerved than she had been in her entire life. Kato's strange behavior wasn't helping a bit. He was still on alert, his golden eyes flitting around, ears perked.
As if reading her mind, Declan said, "Kato sensed something back there."
"Yes."
She pulled into her driveway, set the brake and turned off the ignition. "You know what's really ironic?"
"What?"
"I moved to this damn island to get away from my sister's premonitions and feelings. She was driving me nuts with them."
"You mean telling you what to do all the time?"
"No, it wasn't like she was my personal horoscope or something. She'd have these dreams or visions about earthquakes, tornadoes, plane crashes, car crashes…Anything and everything, and not one thing anyone could prevent." Markie shook her head, trying to shed the chill that wouldn't leave her.
"Was she right?"
"Too often for comfort. I couldn't take it anymore. What good does it do to know there's going to be an earthquake in Asia in the next twenty-four hours? Who's going to listen?"
"I see your point."
"And now I'm cooped up with a dog who's doing the same thing." She looked back at Kato, who was still sitting up in the back seat.
"Did you come here just to get away from your sister?"
She sighed and shook her head. "No. That was just a small part of it. Jeez, she can still call me on the phone when she gets upset, although she doesn't do it as often."
"These visions upset her?"
"Of course they do. And then she upsets me."
"Does she tell anyone else?"
"She's working with someone at the Rhine Institute. I don't know much about it."
That shivering sense filled her again, and the desire to get into the house nearly overwhelmed her. Behind her, Kato whimpered briefly, quietly. "Come on, let's get this stuff inside and see if we can't figure something out."
Declan hefted the files from the trunk and carried them inside. She let Kato off his leash. Ordinarily he would dash around to the back of the house and relieve himself while she retrieved the mail and went in the front, then wait for her by the kitchen door. Tonight, he simply sat by her left heel, still sniffing the breeze warily. She led him to the door.
"C'mon, Kato. We'll walk later."
Once inside, she offered Dec coffee, but he declined.
"I'll be up all night," he said. "I'll take a bottle of water, though."
The island's only fresh water source had a sulfurous taste to it, something even purification couldn't quite remove. So, like most folks, Markie bought bottled water. She retrieved two bottles from the fridge, poured a third into Kato's bowl and joined Dec at the counter.
Apparently Dec wasn't ready to get back to work, however. "You said your sister wasn't the only reason you came here."
Markie's heart sank. She didn't want to get into all this. It would have been so easy to deflect the question, change the subject. But she'd opened the door, and it seemed rude to slam it closed in his face.
"I'm sorry," he said, with a quickness of perception that surprised her. "I shouldn't have asked."
She could have let it slide then, but somehow his understanding made that impossible. "Actually, the biggest reason I came here was so I wouldn't have to euthanize so many animals."
His eyebrows lifted as the corners of his eyes creased with something very like sympathy. "How do you mean?"
"Well, I had to put down a lot of dogs and cats that could have lived if only the owners could have afforded surgery or to have a leg set. It's not like that here. Nobody has to pay for vet care. I'm on salary through the territory. So if an animal is ill, I can treat it without having to worry about how much it will cost and whether the owner can afford it."
He nodded. "That's one of the things I like, too. Universal health care. But I never thought about it in relation to your profession."
"I have. Too much." She bit her lower lip and tried to push away memories of too many patients who were now gone. "I feel guilty when a patient dies, Dec. Even if I've done everything I can. Even if I know it was just that animal's time. One of God's cruelest tricks is how animals can worm their way into our hearts, yet they have such short lifespans compared to ours.
"Now imagine how I felt when I knew I could have saved an animal, but the owners couldn't afford it. I couldn't adopt them all, nor could I afford to treat them all for free. That wasn't something I'd thought much about when I was a student. It wasn't until I was working for a group practice that I was really forced to face it. After a few years, it was a constant weight on my heart."
Unexpectedly he reached out and squeezed her hand, holding it. "I can understand that."
She looked straight at him.
Declan held up a hand. "Yes, I can. I don't have to euthanize anyone, obviously, but I used to work in a city hospital E.R. I saw plenty of senseless death. It weighs on you even when it isn't your fault. Having to actually do it, put the patient down, must be even worse."
She drew a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions. Tears were so near the surface, and she hated that. "I was starting to feel like a sham. I guess I was just too naive when I started down this road."
"But at least you have a place now where that doesn't happen."
"And I have every intention of keeping it."
He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way she liked. "Good."
She felt raw, as if she had stripped away some of her own skin. But even more tumbled out of her. "I know a lot of people thought I was overreacting. The doctors I worked for kept telling me not to get personally involved with my patients. But it wasn't personal involvement. I didn't know these animals. I didn't have to. They were living beings, and I felt like an executioner."
Kato was suddenly there, resting his head on her thigh. She reached out to stroke his head. "Anyway, how can you not get attached? It's like he reads my mind and heart."
"He does seem to." Dec released her hand and waited patiently, apparently aware that she was dealing with an inner storm.
But she'd been through this and had tried to put it behind her, and she had the strength to do so again. It was just that his question had made it fresh again for a few minutes.
"I'm fine," she said briskly. "Now let's finish up this map."
* * *
Eighteen dogs. Eighteen addresses. They sat staring at the map, and Dec felt a distinct unease. The marks followed a pattern, as if something had blown in from the northwest, over the Plantation Hills subdivision, over Harbor Street and Carter Shippey's house, across to La Puerta and Markie's clinic, finally stopping just north of the cathedral cemetery.
"I wish we knew what happened when," Dec said. "A timeline would help."
"It happened fast," Markie told him. "I heard the dogs barking. It was like a wave passing through. Well, you heard it, too. It didn't last all that long."
"But Kato sensed it lo
ng before the dogs started barking."
Markie nodded thoughtfully.
"I'm trying to remember," he said, closing his eyes for a moment. He remembered Kato's reaction. He remembered how the barking had started, and how it had driven him to step outside. And then it had passed away.
He opened his eyes, suddenly certain. "It came out of the northwest."
"There's nothing out there. It's wilderness."
He felt a twist deep inside. "Nothing out there except…" He pointed at the map with his index finger. "Except the old fort."
Markie stared at the map, then slipped off her stool and began pacing. "That place has been abandoned since when…the 1920s?"
"They reopened it for a couple of years during the mess with Cuba. I guess they put up a few Quonset huts, installed some radar and antiaircraft stuff."
She leaned over to see the map better. "Unfortunately, that could support the weapon idea."
"Yeah."
All of a sudden she reached out and clutched his shoulder. "Oh, God!"
"Why?"
"The dogs are barking again."
He nodded, his eyes narrowing. "I know, but there's no way to know—"
She put a fingertip on the map, just above the cemetery, just a block and a half from her house. "Alice lives here."
He didn't argue with her, even though she expected it. If she'd sounded crazy earlier when she'd voiced the idea of a weapon, she knew she must sound like a lunatic now. But lunacy or not, she couldn't resist the compulsion.
Not one word of argument passed his lips, however. He simply nodded and stood.
But Kato had different ideas. Once again, he blocked Markie's way, his lowered head saying there was no way he was going to let her pass.
"Kato, for Pete's sake," Markie said impatiently. But before she could finish her reprimand, the chilly sense of foreboding trickled once again down her spine.
She knelt, taking Kato's head between her hands and looking into his incredible golden eyes. Her voice was little more than a whisper. "That's what you're feeling, isn't it?"
For an instant she felt a preternatural connection with the dog, as if some part of each of them melded in complete understanding. She'd had the feeling before, but not to this degree. For long moments she continued to squat, perfectly still, letting the feeling fill her.
When she rose, she faced Dec, expecting to see skepticism. Instead, she saw only a query.
"Kato's going with us," she said quietly. "He thinks I'm in danger."
* * *
Wendy always met Tim on his boat. Tonight, however, the marina wasn't a welcoming place. In fact, she found herself reluctant to get out of the car. All the streetlights in town had gone off as she had driven this way, and the lights at the marina were out, too. Some sort of power outage, she supposed. All she could see were the shadowy, dim shapes of piers and masts past her headlights, headlights that seemed unable to penetrate the darkness. It was almost as if there was some kind of invisible fog out there.
For a minute she toyed with going home, gallon of milk in hand, so if her husband woke, she could claim she'd gone out to the convenience store. But Tim was here somewhere, and the craving for him overwhelmed her caution.
Besides, nothing bad ever happened in Martina Town. This place might have started as a pirates' haven, but over the years it seemed to have inbred to placidity. She had nothing to fear from the dark, other than tripping.
A knock on her side window caused her to jump and squeak, but then she saw Tim's face grinning at her. Suddenly the lack of light seemed romantic, not threatening at all.
He opened her car door and waited while she climbed out. "What's with the lights?" she asked, trying to act casual. She'd already learned that Tim didn't like any hint that their affair was anything more. Time would change that, she promised herself.
"I don't know." He shrugged, his teeth the brightest thing in the night. "Inside lights are working. They must've blown something on the circuits for the streetlights."
He slipped his arm around her waist and gave her one of those demanding kisses that thrilled her all the way to her toes. "Come on, baby, the bunk's waiting."
Sometimes she wished they would take more time to talk first, but Tim wasn't like that. At times she thought he must be a pirate reincarnated. Another thrill shuddered pleasurably through her. They could talk later. They always did.
For a little while, at least.
* * *
Kato's presence made Markie feel a little better—until they stepped outside and saw that the streetlights were out everywhere, casting the town into a darkness it had rarely known since the advent of gaslight.
Lights still burned in the houses, but that was it. And nobody was driving the quiet streets. Ghost town. The crazy thought popped into Markie's head and caused her to shiver, even though the night was warm and balmy.
* * *
Tim rutted her with a eerie, alien passion, his hips grinding against her, his fingers clenched tight in her hair, pulling her face to his, mauling her lips with hard kisses. Wendy had never seen him like this. This was beyond the conquistador claiming his prize. This was…battle.
Her legs hung over the side of the bunk, splayed, and she could already feel the bruises forming on her buttocks as he drove her again and again into the hard teak rail. Her sharp yelps only seemed to spur him on, and in fleeting moments between stabs of pain, her own sex quivered and shuddered in reply. But more and more, arousal gave way to rising discomfort.
Finally, trying to break his focus and bring his attention back to her, she raked her nails down his back, hard, knowing she was drawing blood.
For a moment, he paused and looked at her, an almost inhuman fire in his eyes. "Yes," he hissed.
* * *
An unearthly quiet seemed to settle over Kato as they approached the house. He could see other dogs in the neighboring yards, barking, clawing at fences and windows, but their voices were silent to him. His shoulders and neck tensed as his hackles rose to attention, and he lowered his head, eyes narrowed, trying to see the darkness within the darkness. The leash was taut, and a distant part of him registered Markie's command to heel. But there were times to obey and times to mind his own counsel. This was one of the latter.
He lowered his hips and shoulders and lunged forward, feeling the leash go slack as it flew from her fingers. "Kato!" she cried, but that was behind him. His attention was fixed ahead, on the black, burned, sickly sweet scent that seemed to rise from the house like a cloud. Legs driving, muscles rippling, ears flared back, teeth bared, he charged toward the door.
* * *
Wendy clawed him again, harder, digging deep into skin and muscle beneath, tearing, pulling, until she felt the sharp, icy snap of acrylic breaking away from her nail. Now his eyes seemed to darken, almost losing focus, then clenching shut as he shuddered deep within her, grinding her bruised bottom even harder on the teak until the last flutters of his climax ended.
She tried to push him away, to ease the awful pressure beneath her. Her hands left shiny, black, wet smears on his shoulders. His blood, in the light of the full moon. Bile rose in her throat, and she struggled, pushing, until finally he sagged to the floor.
"What the hell was that?" she asked.
"God damn," was all he could reply.
* * *
Markie watched in horror as Kato crashed into and through the French door of Alice's house, glass shattering in moonlit sparkles. She broke into a run.
"Kato!" she called.
Declan was already moving, easy long strides carrying him past her and to the door. He, too, yelled for the dog.
"Kato!"
Markie reached the door two steps behind him, as he reached inside and opened the dead bolt, then swung the door open. Flecks and smears of blood marked the dog's path. The veterinary mind in Markie registered that Kato must have cut himself as he broke through the glass. The other mind—owner, companion—quailed in fear as she followed Declan down
the hall. He froze in a bedroom doorway.
"What the hell?"
* * *
"Tim!" Wendy snapped, slapping his face. "What the hell were you doing?"
His eyes turned up to her, a dark glow deep within the pupils. "Now," he whispered. "Now I understand."
* * *
We're leaving. The order came down today. Pack up fast, we're outta here. I just hope I get away in time. Those damn bones…
10
Declan watched in horror as Alice Wheatley's body shuddered and spasmed. Kato was snapping at the air around her, low, feral growls emanating from deep in his belly. And yet the awful dance continued, her feet scraping across the painted wood floor. Her hands flailed at the air, clenched at her throat, tore at her blouse. And her eyes…her eyes…
A silent scream creased her face, but it was her eyes that Declan would see in his nightmares. Wide with terror and pain, unfocused, seeing beyond the veil of reality into eternity, as she skittered across the floor.
Finally, finally, the spasms ended and she slumped to the floor with a wet thud. Declan crossed the room in two steps, then paused as Kato whirled, his teeth bared.
"Kato, no!" Markie yelled.
The wolf's eyes flickered over to her for an instant, then returned to Declan.
"Kato!"
The last scream seemed to reach the dog. He froze, looked at Markie, at Dec, then turned to sniff Alice. His haunches sagged to the floor, and he turned up his face to utter a long, mournful wail.
Hoping it was safe to approach, Declan walked over and knelt beside Alice's body. He took her wrist in his hand to search for a pulse, but he already knew what he would find. There was no pulse, and the wrist bones seemed to give way beneath even that soft touch.
"She's dead," he said, turning to Markie.
Markie's face seemed frozen in time, her lips parted in a gasp for breath that would not come. Then her entire spirit seemed to sag.
