by Roh Morgon
Oh shit.
Snapping my eyes shut, I sharply inhale and turn my face away. I pause, then slowly open them as my vision clears.
“Uh, I’m sorry. Can you tell me where she is?” I fish a paper and pen out of my bag and make a big show of writing down Sandy’s new room number. Anything to keep from looking up at the nurse again.
Mumbling “thanks,” I turn and walk back up the hall.
When I find her room, I’m disappointed to discover she’s no longer in a private one. I take a deep breath and cross the floor to her bed beneath the window, ignoring the elderly woman asleep in the other bed near the door. Sandy’s asleep as well, her monitor and drip quietly doing their jobs.
Her eyes open when I stop next to her bed and set the flowers on the nightstand.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.” I keep my voice low as I settle into the chair.
She smiles. “You could sneak up on a cat. I didn’t hear a sound. I just sorta knew you were here.”
Hmm.
“Thank you for the flowers. They’re really pretty. I love all the different colors.”
“You’re welcome. How are you feeling?”
“All right. Still sore, but not as much. Moving around helps. You know the old saying, ‘Two farts in the wind are better than one in the belly!’” She giggles quietly.
“I haven’t heard that one.”
“That’s cuz I just made it up.” Sandy grins.
She must be feeling better. She’s sounding more and more like a normal teenager.
“Here. Brought you something.” I fish the book from my bag and hand it to her.
“Stephen King?” she says loudly. The sleeping patient in the other bed groans. Sandy claps her hand over her mouth and lowers her voice. “I love Stephen King!”
“Hope you haven’t read this one.” It was the least creepy one I could find.
“The Gunslinger. No, I haven’t. Oh, wait, it’s part of The Dark Tower series? Awesome. I’ve been wanting to read this. Thanks!”
She flips through the book while I take out the Casper area map I’d bought. I unfold it and lay it across Sandy’s bed.
“Do I look like a table?”
“You’re not doing anything else, are you?” I study the roads leading into the mountains directly south of town.
“Whatcha looking for?”
“Someplace to hike. Thought I’d check out the area around Casper Mountain.”
“Hiking? You don’t strike me as the outdoorsy tree-hugger type.” Sandy snorts.
Glancing sidelong at her, I shake my head.
I can’t resist.
“I’ve hugged… a lot… of trees.” Climbing them. And sleeping in them.
“Never would’ve guessed,” she replies, eyebrows raised.
“And you thought you knew everything about me.”
“I know a lot more than you think.”
My jaw clenches at the old fear of discovery creeping up my spine.
“Don’t be too sure of that.” I fold the map and put it in my bag, then stand and offer her a tight smile.
“What, are you leaving now? You just got here.”
“I’ll be back tomorrow after lunch. You’ve had a long day and should get some rest.”
Her expression makes me feel guilty as hell. If I didn’t need to hunt so badly, I’d stay longer.
“You’ve got a book to read.” I reach out and squeeze her hand. “And I’ve got things to take care of this evening.”
Sandy frowns and turns her head to stare out the window.
“Are you really coming back?”
“I said I would.”
“Yeah. I’ve heard that one before.” She jerks her hand away.
“If I say I’m going to do something, I do it.”
“Whatever.” Sandy picks up the book and opens it, her scowl directed firmly at the page.
Yep. Teenager.
I leave the room without another word.
Driving across town toward Casper Mountain, it’s all I can do to keep the frenzied creatures inside me from completely losing it.
It’s bad enough just trying to manage the emotional fallout from my disastrous relationship with Nicolas, how I fear that I may yet give in and go back to him. Or deal with the gut-wrench I feel every time I think about my daughter and her baby in California.
But now I’ve let myself get attached to this girl, and worse, she’s apparently become attached to me. Her sudden dependence on me scares me to death, because I’m only going to do what it seems like everyone else in her life has done.
Abandon her.
And I can’t help that. My life is too dangerous, too volatile, to risk sharing it with a human. If it was that easy, I never would’ve left California. I would’ve found a way to re-enter Andrea’s life and be a part of the family she’s building.
But violence is my life now, and it’s always just a matter of time before it shatters everything around me and I have to move on.
The old despairs sink their talons in deeper, joined by all of my new ones.
And I only know one way to make them all stop.
Hot blood fills my mouth as it pumps from the buck’s torn throat. I drink deeply, savoring the sensation of it as it washes through my system and replenishes my veins. The taste is foul, not what I want, not what I really want. But the chase and the kill satisfy both hunter and beast, and the hunger is kept at bay by literally drowning it in several gallons of deer blood.
Draining the last of it, I sit there a moment, the deer’s body still cradled in my arms, and bask in the red warmth, almost too bloated to move. The faint rustle of leaves being compressed into the ground catches my attention and I turn my head to see a bobcat warily approaching about ninety feet away. He stops, and his golden eyes stare at me through the crimson veil of mine. His stubby tail lashes as he debates whether to hold his ground or run.
I slide the deer to the ground and slowly stand, then walk quietly away in the opposite direction. I prefer that he get the carcass, rather than any of the other creatures that live here. I find that I’m especially partial to cats these days.
From the other side of the clearing, I watch as he approaches the deer. His soft spotted coat triggers the anguish in my gut as I recall a beautiful snow leopard and the princely Chosen who was fond of her.
I remember the living sculpture Nicolas made of us in the center of his topiary garden. Two big leopards, one spotted, one dark, embracing in eternal conflict. The forms bore the careful attention he applied to his craft, to his music, to his collections, to me.
And to his donors. His gentle concern for them made him unique among The Chosen, even those within his own lineage, and I still cannot believe the Nicolas I left standing in that bloody room was the Nicolas I fell in love with.
Longing for him surges through me, for his arms around my body, his fangs in my throat, his blood running through my veins, and the endless ecstasy of The Chosen union.
The black chasm in my core gapes open, threatening to devour my sanity.
Oh God, Nicolas, how did this turn out so badly?
But I know the answer. It was me. It was my unwillingness to change, my unwillingness to Change. To no longer be this half human, half monster thing that I am, riddled with insecurity and the decaying moralities of my former life. To become full Chosen and accept everything that it means.
To no longer be alone.
Wrenching my gaze away from the spotted cat, I flee deeper into the mountains, running as hard and as fast as I can.
THURSDAY
CHAPTER 9
Pulling into the hospital parking lot, I steel myself for another long day with people. I took down two good-sized bucks last night, but after my time with Nicolas feeding on human blood, deer tasted thin, bitter and gamey, and I could barely gag it down. But gag it down I did, until I thought I would explode, in the hope that flooding my veins would help make the beast and its hunger more manageable.
I walk
silently through the hospital halls to Sandy’s room. I don’t know how long I can continue to visit. I’ve alarmed several of the staff members over the last couple days, and I’m sure that I’ve become a topic of discussion by now. Being around medical personnel who observe physical conditions for a living makes me very nervous, and I’m anxious to quit this place for good.
As for Sandy, I’ve decided how best to help her, yet keep her safe from me and whoever or whatever may come after me. I don’t know if she’ll go for it, but it’s the only option I can see for now that will give her an opportunity for a good life and give me a little peace of mind.
Her nose is buried between the pages of the book when I walk into her room. The I.V. is gone, but she’s still attached to the monitor. The other patient is elsewhere, thankfully.
Sandy looks up.
“Hi,” she says, almost in a whisper.
“Hi.” I hand her the little purple stuffed dragon I’d picked up on the way over.
“I’m sorry.” Her eyes fill with tears as she takes it.
“It’s okay.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. One minute I’m pissed off, the next I’m crying…” She strokes the dragon’s shimmery wing, then wipes away her tears, now spilling over.
“Hey, it’s understandable. You’ve been through a lot the last couple days. Some creep tried to rape you, you almost died, and now you’re stuck here sick and feeling all alone.”
Both hands fly to her eyes, her body shudders, and the sounds tearing from her throat pierce through all my defenses.
I hesitate, then wrap my arms around her, arms that only a few short hours ago held a struggling deer as I drained away his precious life.
She latches on to me, crying in earnest now. My jaw clamped tight, I hold her and fight to keep my own warring emotions from pouring crimson rivers down my face.
“Hey, Sandy. I have a plan. I want you to think about it. Okay?”
Sandy nods and, sniffling, slowly releases me.
“I found an apartment, not too far from Casper College. I’d like you to think about living there, and maybe trying to go to school.”
“Are you going to live there, too?” She looks up at me, hope shining through her wet lashes.
“Just long enough to help you get settled. I do a lot of traveling and would appreciate you taking care of it for me while I’m on the road.”
She drops her gaze and fusses with the dragon.
I wait, letting her consider my offer. Ideally, she’ll settle in, go to school, make friends, make a life. One that I’ll drop in on less and less as time goes by.
Sandy sniffles and yanks a tissue from the box on the bedside stand.
“The nurse told me anesthesia can make a person pretty looney for a couple days afterward,” she says.
“I’ve heard that. I’ve also heard that just being a teenager can make you a little looney, too.”
She laughs and wipes her face.
“Yeah.”
Taking a deep breath, Sandy picks up the dragon.
“Thank you. This is really cute. I love dragons.”
The sketchbook I’d found in her backpack had been filled with them.
“You’re welcome. I got one, too.” I pull it out of my bag and she grins.
But as I put it back, I don’t tell her it’s to help me remember her on lonely nights once I’ve hit the road again. I have a whole collection of stuffed animals, each one guarding a memory of someone I’d known or somewhere I’d been since becoming the thing that I am.
It’s only one of the many bits and pieces of my life that I left behind at Nicolas’s estate.
Fighting back the emptiness suddenly twisting my gut, I zip my bag and look back up at Sandy.
“Okay,” she says. “I’ll do it. I’ll… take care of your apartment for you.”
“What about school?”
“Do you think they have art classes? I really like to draw.”
“I’m sure they do. I’ll pick up a college catalog and you can see what they offer.”
She nods, then her face brightens.
“Hey, guess what? I made a friend.”
“Great. Here in the hospital?”
“Yeah. Her name is Cara. We met in the hall. She’s like you and me—she has a blood problem, too.”
I highly doubt it’s anything like mine.
“Wanna meet her?”
Not really. The best way to keep the beast manageable is to not give it any reason to be otherwise. And that means staying as far away from people as possible.
Except for Sandy. I still can’t figure out why she has such a calming influence over it, but it’s become pretty obvious that she does.
“Come on. I need to go for a walk anyway. It’s the only way I can get these farts out.” Reaching under her gown, she disconnects the monitor leads, then throws back the bedcovers and slides from the bed. She stuffs her feet into a pair of white hospital slippers, flashes me a conspiratorial grin, and steps gingerly toward the door.
With a sigh, I follow close behind. If I stay near her, maybe the beast won’t react to the people we encounter.
I hope.
It’s erratic behavior has me completely on edge, not unlike when I first left my mountain refuge and re-joined human civilization.
But I learned how to restrain it then, learned the vigilance and the preparation that it takes, and I can do it again. I’ve just become so used to being the master of them both—beast and hunter—that this sudden rebellion has totally shattered my confidence.
My skin crawling with self-doubt, I closely trail Sandy through the hallways.
We stop outside of another room, its door cracked open a few inches. Sandy lightly knocks, then grins at the subdued response from within the room.
“Good. She’s awake. Here, you need to wear this stuff.” She grabs a couple pale yellow hospital masks from a wall-mounted dispenser and hands me one, then follows that with a matching paper gown and booties. After donning hers and rubbing her hands with disinfectant, she eases the door open.
“Hey, Cara. It’s me, Sandy. Want some company?”
I follow Sandy into the dimly lit room. A young, frail-looking woman occupies the single bed in the center, hooked up to an I.V. and accompanying monitor.
“How’re you feeling?” Sandy settles into a chair next to the bed. I stay back, unwilling to test my hold on the beast.
The girl, who appears to be not much older than Sandy, clicks off the TV and offers a wan smile. Her pallor is underscored by dark circles beneath her brown eyes, her head covered by a bright pink-and-yellow knit beanie. I try to imagine her as a brunette, then as a blonde. She would’ve been pretty either way. Her beauty now is that of someone valiantly fighting for her life.
They talk, though Sandy dominates the conversation despite being muffled by the surgical mask. The girl’s heartbeat is weak and the smell of her blood odd, but different from Sandy’s. The beast shows no interest in her, but I still don’t trust it.
“Oh, Sunny. I forgot you were here! Come on over. Cara would like to meet you.”
Taking a deep breath, I approach the bed.
“Hi. I’m Cara. Sandy’s told me a lot about you.” She smiles.
I glance over at Sandy. “Has she now?”
“Yeah, she said that you were really nice to her and took her shopping.” Cara tugs her beanie down over one ear. “I love shopping. I haven’t been for a long time. Been too sick, and I can’t be around crowds because I might catch something and get even worse.”
Nodding, I try keep my expression neutral beneath the mask. Life is so damned unfair.
Sandy reaches out and pats Cara’s arm.
“But that’s okay, cuz I told you I’d give you some of my stuff. I got too much anyways. It won’t all fit in my backpack. And I figure since we’re about the same size, you might as well have some of it. That way we can both have something new.” Sandy laughs. “If you can’t go to the shopping, we’ll
just bring the shopping to you!”
“Sure, Sandy. That’ll be great. It’ll be fun trying on everything you told me about.”
I look down at the thin frame of the ailing girl, and her return smile seems wise and beyond her years. She will be gone soon, this one. I can sense it, and only hope that Sandy gets out of here before that happens.
“It’s nice to meet you, Cara. I’m glad Sandy has someone closer to her age to talk to.”
“It was just luck that we met out in the hall when I was on one of my fart walks.” Sandy grins.
Cara giggles. “I can’t believe you call them that.”
Sandy shrugs, her masked smile shining from her eyes.
“Oh, hey. I have something to show you. Sunny brought me a dragon! Well, not a live dragon. Remember how I was telling you I’m really into dragons? I’ll go get it. Be right back.”
And before I can react, she’s gone.
Leaving me in the room alone with Cara.
I brace myself for the beast’s explosion, but it never comes. All it does is quietly raise its head, then goes back to sleep.
More puzzled than ever, I can’t help looking back at Cara, wondering about the odd smell of her blood.
“So you really picked her up hitchhiking?” she asks.
“I did. I still can’t believe anyone in this day and age, especially a girl, would be foolish enough to hitchhike.”
“I think it’s awesome. She’s been all over the country. I’ve been stuck here in Casper my whole life.” Cara shakes her head. “But hitchhiking does sound kinda scary. She was telling me about some of the run-ins she’s had with the people who’ve picked her up. And not just guys, either. But she said most of them have been nice, and usually give her a little money to help her out or buy her food. I think it’s cool. But I’d never be brave enough to do it.” She sighs. “Not that I could, even if I wanted to.”
“Did she say how long she’d been on the road?”
“No, but it sounded like at least a few months.”
I inwardly shudder. It’s only a matter of time before she takes a ride that turns out to be her last.
Sandy shuffles back into the room, the purple dragon nestled under one arm and her sketchbook in hand.
