Worlds Apart

by Marlene Dotterer

  “Not yet,” Shandari said, pushing against his shoulder. “I want those burns to heal more before you move around and tear the new skin.”

  He stared at Kasia. “What did I do?”

  She folded her arms over her chest, a finger tapping against her tricep. “Near as I can tell, you defended yourself. There will be an inquiry, of course. I'm afraid you're on leave until it's settled.”

  At least he wasn't in jail, although that could be because of his injuries. In fact, he was lucky his rescuers hadn't killed him outright. He suspected Kasia had been among them for the specific reason of making sure they didn't.

  “You killed those goblins.” Kasia's voice was devoid of emotion or judgment as she said this, and Clive winced. All four of them?

  “They had me locked in a cage,” he said. “They tortured me for hours. By the time I got away, the Change was starting.” He rubbed his forehead, trying to remember. “I couldn't get to an enclave.”

  Kasia sighed. “I know that, Clive. I think the evidence, and your own injuries, will prove what happened there. But we'll have a hard time with the restriction crowd. They'll say we had no right allowing you out alone so close to the full moon. That your duties should be restricted to… oh fuck-a-pixie. You already know what they'll say.”

  He nodded, staring at the ceiling to keep from seeing Kasia's disappointment. His throat burned.

  “Can I have more water?” he asked, and Shandari held it out. He sipped through the straw, surprised at how his hands shook when he tried to grasp the glass.

  “You have several burns,” Shandari said. “Your internal organs were practically poached meat. I've healed your injuries to the point where they can reconstitute themselves. We'll have another session tomorrow.”

  Clive touched her hand in thanks. She'd used her empathic skills to take his injuries into her own body, where her enhanced immune system could eradicate them. This accelerated his healing, but it was dangerous to the healer and had to be done in stages. They reserved the treatment for the worst injuries.

  “We have another problem,” Kasia said. She exchanged a glance with Shandari, and Clive drew inward in sudden fear. Had he hunted innocent people after killing the goblins?

  No, surely not. Not even Kasia would let him live if he'd done that. But he couldn’t stop trembling as he waited for her to say more.

  She stood, pacing the few steps to the end of his bed and back again. “Tina Cassidy,” she said.

  Clive stared at her, his mind refusing to settle on a coherent thought. “What?”

  Kasia shook her head, a short, impatient gesture. “The Flatlands woman you slept with.”

  “I know who she is, Kasia.” Clive tried to understand what Tina had to do with anything. He remembered the pixies then, and gripped his blanket. “Is she all right? Did she get pixie-sick?”

  “No. She's fine, Clive.” Kasia leaned forward, her face a few inches above his, as she repeated her words in a clipped voice. “She's. Fine. Remember that. Alive. And. Well.” Kasia straightened. “What she is, Clive, is pregnant. With your baby.”

  He couldn't look away from her, unable to make sense of her words. He forced himself to sit up, pushing Shandari’s hand away when she tried to stop him. His back oozed warm fluid, which he ignored. He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't figure out what. He closed it to think, then tried again.

  “Make sense, Kasia. Please.”

  Kasia sighed and sank back onto the stool. “This will take time. Lie down like a good patient and shut up until I'm done.”

  He obeyed, feeling as he did in those hazy moments just before waking, when nothing was real. What the hell was Kasia talking about?

  She told him. When she finished, his mind settled on two warring truths:

  Tina was carrying his child.

  The werewolf was free in the Flatlands.

  ~~

  “How soon can I talk to her?” Clive reclined in the bed, unable to accept Kasia's story while lying down. His mind was a whirl of emotions, but his body had sunk into lethargy, nailing him into place.

  “She doesn't want to talk to you, Clive.” Kasia sounded weary, too.

  “Yes, you said that. But I don't understand why.”

  Kasia and Shandari exchanged a glance and his patience snapped.

  “Dammit, I don't understand why! I think she had a good time. The only problem came up right at the end, when I said we couldn't get together again. She was a bit upset, but she said she understood.”

  Shandari sat on the bed and lifted his hand into her lap. “But you see, I think that's the problem. She hasn't said much about it, but I think she felt a connection with you. She liked you, Clive, and wanted to see you again, as you said. She was hurt when you turned her down.”

  He stared at her, confused. “Yes, but… the situation has changed. Doesn't she understand that?”

  Shandari shook her head.

  Clive turned to Kasia. “You know my reasons for not seeing her again. You've explained it to her. Doesn't she understand that my reasons were good?”

  “I believe she does,” Kasia said. “And, in fact, those reasons still stand—something you seem to be forgetting. You cannot be involved with a Flatland woman unless she agrees to stay in Kaarmanesh.”

  “So let me talk to her about it.”

  Kasia closed her eyes and repeated in a monotone, “She doesn't want to see you, Clive.”

  “So that's it?” Despair fueled his body, disregarding injuries. He slammed a fist into the bed. “I don't even get a chance to be involved? To know my own child? What about that? Even if I never see her again, don’t I have a right to help raise my son? Other werewolves do, if they have children before the bite. They're allowed to stay with their families.”

  He held a hand out to Kasia, but it fell to the bed, shaking. His whole body was shaking, hard enough to make the bed tremble. He heard Kasia gasp, but couldn't see past a gray shadow that covered his vision. He felt Shandari's hands on his head, heard her mumbling a quick charm. He tried to jerk away, to argue his case until they gave in. Time stretched before him, a road he was forced to tread for all his future days, as he had his past—alone.

  When the grayness turned to black, he sank into it with despairing welcome.

  Chapter 23

  Tina paused at the corner of Main and Flower to tie her flopping shoelace, and to let Jake turn his massive Dodge truck onto Main Street. He tapped his horn in greeting as he passed her, then again a few seconds later. Tina turned to see who was behind her and smacked into Damien Fontaine. He grinned down at her.

  “Out for a stroll?” she asked.

  “Heading home,” he said. “I could be talked into dinner at Eddie's, though, if I found a beautiful woman who wanted company. My treat.”

  When the CDC released the town from quarantine, Damien took a studio apartment, along with a part-time job at the hardware store. He continued to help people with tasks put off due to the illness: minor repairs, cleaning gutters, or the ongoing soil reparation in gardens. Tina liked his willingness to help, even if she wasn't ready to take on a new relationship.

  She lifted her arm to show him the empty canvas bags she held. “I'm going grocery shopping. It's such a gorgeous day, I wanted to walk. But I should get home before dark.”

  He nodded and placed a hand over his heart. “I bow to your good sense, my dear woman. But my heart aches from the absence of your company.”

  “Oh, brother.” Tina laughed. “I can't turn you away after that, can I?” His face brightened, and she laughed again. “How about a counter offer? You help with my groceries, and I'll cook you dinner at my place.”

  He took her bags, holding them in both hands. “Your servant, miss. I have a mean hand with the grill, if I may offer assistance with the cooking.”

  “It's still packed away for the winter,” Tina said with some regret. “But I'll give you broiling tips.”

  Damien kept up his elegant patter as they wandered throu
gh the store, and Tina found herself relaxing as she laughed with him. It felt good to joke with someone again, as if life were returning to normal. She felt a surge of gratitude toward Damien, realizing that it seemed as if she'd known him for years. In fact, she was pretty sure she had, although the specifics were a bit hazy.

  He kept her amused with stories of his backpacking trips as they trundled down the hill to her house in the deepening twilight. Her porch light had turned itself on, and for a brief moment, she searched for a hulking wolf shape. The porch stood empty, however, and she forgot about it.

  They entered the house still laughing, but Damien stopped just inside the door, staring toward the kitchen. Tina followed his gaze, to see Beowulf standing frozen, fur bristling in all directions, his eyes glittering with wild terror as he stared at Damien. Tina froze herself, unnerved at her cat's behavior. What was wrong with him?

  Before she could speak or move, Beowulf crouched back, then without a sound, dashed for the stairs, scaled them in two huge leaps, and disappeared into her bedroom. Tina stared after him, mouth open.

  Beside her, Damien shifted a foot, and cleared his throat. “Doesn't like strangers, I take it?”

  Tina closed her mouth as she offered a sheepish shrug. “He's usually fine with people. I don't know what that was about.”

  He tilted his head toward the door. “Perhaps I should...”

  “No, no. Don't be ridiculous.” Tina pushed the door closed with her foot and stepped toward the kitchen. “We'll let him sulk upstairs. If he wants his dinner, he'll show up eventually.”

  It took a few minutes to get back into their convivial mood, but by the time the groceries were put away, they were laughing again. Damien, who insisted his cooking experience was limited to campfires, nevertheless proved capable of broiling steaks, while Tina prepared a salad and nuked a couple of potatoes.

  “So what did you do before the big backpacking trip?” she asked about halfway through dinner. “I feel like I've known you forever, but I really don't know anything about you. Where are you from originally?”

  He paused in cutting his steak, then rested the utensils on his plate as he looked up at her. His eyes were intense, and for some reason, a shiver went through her as she gazed at him. “Nowhere important,” he said. His voice was low, a steady monotone. “Nothing about me is important, is it, Tina?”

  She stared into his eyes, confused. A sense of calm settled in her. “No, it's not important,” she said.

  “You know me now,” he continued in the same voice. “You trust me, don't you, Tina?”

  “I trust you,” she said, still calm. She felt a twitch in her mind, and blinked, breaking contact with his gaze. “Of course, I trust you,” she said again. “You've been so helpful since you came here. I'm glad you've decided to stay in Green Roads. And I'd like to learn more about you. So we can be friends.”

  His brows lowered into a wrinkled “V” as he reached for her hand. His thumb caressed her palm and she lost herself in his eyes again. “We are friends, Tina. We are very good friends. I'm glad we are. I'm going to take care of you and your baby. Don't forget that. You trust me more than anyone else in Green Roads. You depend on me, Tina. You'll dream about it, tonight. About how much you trust me, and depend on me.”

  “That will be a nice dream,” she said, leaning toward him, concentrating on the thumb caressing her. She stared into his eyes, blue and glittering, as he lifted her hand to his lips. His kiss on her palm sent shivers through her, and set up an aching pulse in her groin.

  He smiled a soft smile, as if he could feel that pulse, and rubbed his cheek against her palm. “It will be a very nice dream,” he said. “I promise.”

  ~~

  Damien left two hours later, after a few lingering kisses by the door. Tina felt a vague disappointment that he didn't try to do any more than that. This wasn't the time to get involved with someone. She needed to make sure that any new men in her life would love her son, and she couldn't know that about Damien until she'd watched him with the baby. Damien himself couldn't know how he would react until then. Even with the best of intentions, some men just had a hard time loving another man's children.

  She locked the door after he left and set about turning off the lights. When she got to the kitchen, she paused at the sight of Beowulf's full bowl of food. The silly cat had never come downstairs.

  Concerned, she went up and flipped on the light in her room. He always hid under her bed when upset. She knelt down and peered into the darkness. He was shrunk into the tiniest ball he was capable of getting into, tucked against the wall, midway from either side of the bed. He didn't stir or make any noise, but his eyes glittered in unblinking gold.

  “Hey,” she said, keeping her voice soft. “You all right in there?” He gave no response, so she lay on her stomach and inched a gentle hand toward him. “Come see me, baby. Let me pet you.”

  He growled, a wild sound she'd never heard from him before, and lashed out at her hand. He didn't sheath his claws, but she felt his control as he hit her without scratching much. She pulled back, sitting up and staring at the darkness under her bed. Beowulf had never in his life done such a thing. Rubbing her hand, she decided to try talking him out, keeping her voice soft and conversational.

  “I'm sorry you didn't like Damien. I had no idea you'd react that way. He's a nice guy. I trust him, so I hope you learn to trust him, too.” Her brow wrinkled as an uneasy feeling went through her. “Except... I guess he is a little strange. Maybe I should go slower in this. Just see him around other people. I have to admit, there's something about him that bothers me. But I never know what it is. And I always forget when I'm with him.”

  She went on, no longer talking to Beowulf, trying to identify the elusive sensation worrying her. “I do feel that I've known him forever. But he's only been here a month or so. I think. I'm not even sure about that, anymore. He had to be here when the quarantine happened, didn't he? He couldn't have come into town in the middle of that, and I know for a fact he was here for it. Why can't I remember?”

  A jerk woke her up as her head drooped. Peeking under the bed, she saw Beowulf was still a tight ball of fur against the wall, so she sighed and said, “I'm going to bed. Feel free to join me when you're ready.”

  She slipped on pajamas and managed to brush her teeth before falling into bed. Her dreams were very nice, and they were about Damien.

  Chapter 24

  Damien paused a moment on Tina's porch before setting off toward town. Weariness forced him to walk with careful steps. It had been many years since he'd had to work so hard to cast a spell. How did she continue to fight him?

  He needed to feed his power, but not in town. Nor in the forest anywhere near Tina's house. Portal Enforcement had set guards—he'd seen the dark shape of them flittering through the streets, keeping particular watch over Tina's property. So far, his ward had protected him. He'd been wandering around right under their noses, and they paid no attention at all. Even tonight, when he used more power, the guard over Tina's roof had remained unaware.

  But he was not confident about feeding. There was no analog for it in this world, and he was afraid they would notice. So he trudged past town and out to the east—away from Tina's, and away from the portal, where Enforcement officers scoured the forest and puzzled over his ward.

  Later, deep in the forest, he sank to his knees next to a raccoon frozen shivering in place by his gaze. With slow, loving movements, the knife in his hand removed the animal's skin, while its screeches gave voice to the power that filled him.

  In the morning, Tina found Beowulf crouched by the kitchen door. He didn't look at her when she spoke to him, and hissed when she tried to pick him up. She put fresh food in his bowl and set it next to him, but he didn't take his eyes from the door. She sighed. “I suppose you need to go out pretty badly, since you didn't go last night.” When she opened the door, he was gone in a flash of black fur, disappearing into the trees at the edge of the forest.

>   She stared after him, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, half expecting that he would come right back for his food after doing his business. But after a minute, the chill forced her back inside. He'd come by the office later if he needed anything.

  ~~

  Clive followed Kasia into the hearing room at Portal Enforcement's Headquarters, Shandari on his heels. The room was cold, the high ceiling pulling all the heat upward. The gray walls and floor were bare, echoing back every sound, as if to remind the miscreants who entered that they faced serious consequences for their crimes. He'd been in this room many times, always as the prosecuting officer. Back then he appreciated the stark reminder, and the support it gave him.

  Now he suppressed a shudder. Shandari touched his arm in comfort as they turned to the long table near the front of the room. They sat facing a longer table, its five chairs empty. To their left, a table identical to theirs was also empty. They were the first to arrive.

  Not for long, though, as the door opened a minute later and footsteps behind them announced the arrival of the prosecutors. Kasia and Shandari returned their greetings, but Clive kept his eyes on the table. These were Council prosecutors, not Portal Enforcement, and he was relieved to realize he didn't recognize their voices. What would it be like, to face prosecution by one's colleagues?

  Soon the door opened again, and the sharp steps of the Council sounded along the aisle. Clive and the others stood, facing forward until the five members had taken their seats. Clive knew them all by reputation. One was a representative for the elves, one for the witches. Another elf represented the Department of Public Safety and Wellbeing. A satyr served as representative of Teachers and Healers. The last was Brendan Raison, a faun, sitting as the representative of Portal and Law Enforcement. He was also Kasia's immediate superior. These five people made up one of the three Councils for Kaarmanesh.