“Aren’t I the one that’s supposed to be furious at him?” I eased myself up to plant a tender kiss on his throat, right in the spot that I had learned through trial and error was his most vulnerable.
A sharp exhalation of breath was my reward, followed by the feeling of a strong arm sneaking around my waist. “I’m surprised that you aren’t.”
“Oh, I am.” I nuzzled and nibbled at that tender spot, until his head tilted back to give me better access. “I haven’t forgiven him, but I understand that he had to go.”
“Mnngh…” He murmured inarticulately as I kissed a trail down the side of his throat and across his collarbone. “He abandoned the love of his life when she needed him most. I’ll never forgive him for that.”
“If there were more men like you in the world, then there would be a lot more happy women,” I told him, and then promptly distracted him with a play-bite, right on the nipple.
Michael yelped and stared at me with wide eyes, covering his ‘wound’ with his hand. “What was that for?”
“For being you.” I grinned up at him, and then leaned down to plant a playful kiss on his stomach. Anticipation made his breath catch in his throat, but for now the kiss was all he got. That, and a snuggle when I nestled back up against his side. “I’ve got to mark you as mine somehow. Unfortunately, people aren’t cats; no matter how much I rub my face all over you, it just doesn’t work.”
That got a laugh from him. “No, it probably wouldn’t, but you’re more than welcome to try.”
I gasped and feigned injury. “You’re just trying to get me to rub you in all the interesting places. I see what you’re up to, sir.”
He gave me such a wicked grin that I broke down giggling. The wind took the opportunity to yowl mournfully and rattle our windows, sending an ice-cold gust tearing through our little nest. I shivered and cuddled closer to him. It was so dark I could hardly see him in the gloom, but just knowing he was there was enough for me.
“I wonder what the others are up to,” I considered aloud, and felt more than saw Michael shrug beneath me.
“Honestly, I’m not entirely sure what we’re up to, let alone the others.”
With a laugh and a poke in the side, I rolled onto my back to stare at the murky ceiling above us. “We’re snuggling, remember?”
“Ah, of course.” His smile softened to one of affection, and I felt his fingers stroking my hair. I relaxed and closed my eyes, enjoying the sense of closeness.
“You know, in retrospect I’m really glad I didn’t shoot you.” I sighed and reached up to capture his fingers in my own.
“I’m glad I missed.”
I stretched out languidly, listening to the sounds of the storm raging all around us. All the window panes were rattling, and I heard something creaking ominously. A moment later, the sound of glass breaking downstairs made me jump, but Michael restrained me from rushing off to investigate.
“It’ll just be one of the downstairs windows,” he soothed, drawing my fingers up to his lips for a reassuring kiss. “They’re boarded up on the inside, don’t worry about them.”
“It could be one of those mutant zombies taking advantage of the storm,” I protested, but he dismissed the notion with a shake of his head.
“Even the mutant zombies aren’t stupid enough to be outside in this weather. They’d just end up cartwheeling down the street.” His voice was so dry, and the image was so amusing that I couldn’t help but smile.
“You’re always so calm and collected; I don’t know how you do it.” I sighed heavily. A thought struck me then; I turned to look at him quizzically in the semi-darkness. “You did bring your uniform with you when we moved here, right?”
“Of course.” He peered down at me, perplexed. “Why?”
I smiled to myself – he really had no idea about the power that uniform had over me. I gave him a long, sideways look, and then I hid my face against his tummy before he could see me blushing. “Oh, no reason.”
Why no, I didn’t plan to make him wear it when we finally got over our… hurdle. Call me a sucker for a man in uniform, but it looked fantastic on him. Of all the cops I’d seen in my life, none wore it better. Michael grunted inarticulately, like he didn’t quite believe me. He always seemed to know when I was up to no good. Cop instincts or something, I guessed.
Oh, but what about the…?
I sat bolt upright like a meerkat, and made him jump in surprise. “I don’t suppose you kept the hat as well, did you?”
“Uh, I think so. It’s probably in there.” He pointed to a corner of his room, where a couple of bags were still waiting to be unpacked. Part of me wanted to scold him for waiting all this time to get settled in, but part of me understood completely – you never quite knew when you were going to need to pull up roots and run. We had settled in nicely, but there was no guarantee that we could stay in our motel forever.
Hell, there was no guarantee either of us would live out the week. Life was fickle, and far too short to spend the entire time being serious.
I sprang over him and dived into the corner, to root around inside his bags in search of the hat. Although I heard him protesting, he made no attempt to actually stop me from digging through his belongings. It was only fair, after all – he’d gone through mine on several occasions, looking for something. We were close enough that he knew I was no threat to his possessions, just like I understood that he was no threat to mine.
Socks and shorts went flying as I turned his bag upside down, until I finally found what I was looking for, right at the very bottom.
“Victory is mine!” I yanked out one slightly crushed, navy blue police officer’s cap. I dusted it off, popped it back into shape and plonked it on my head. There was a muffled snort behind me. I turned and gave him a look of wide-eyed mock innocence. “What?”
“What on earth has gotten into you, Sandy McDermott?” he asked. I bounced back over to join him in bed.
“Me? Oh, I’m just feeling a bit playful, is all.” I gave him a grin, to which he responded by snatching the hat off my head and placing it upon his own.
“You’re just trying to cheer me up, aren’t you?” He peered at me from beneath the brim of his cap, his smile fading away.
I heaved a sigh and flopped back down with my head on his chest. “Pretty much, yes. Trying to cheer myself up, too. It’s been such a miserable week.”
“I know.” He ran his fingers through my hair, stroking a few golden-blonde strands back away from my face. One finger hooked under my chin and tilted my face up towards his so that he could look me in the eye. “It’s been a rough couple of months for everyone.”
“It’s been a rough decade.” I broke eye contact and looked away. “I need a vacation from being miserable before I go crazy.”
“You and me both.” He nodded his agreement and wrapped an arm around my waist to draw me closer against him. Then he kissed me, softly and tenderly; suddenly, it seemed like everything was going to be fine after all. The kiss lingered for long minutes as we both tried to lose our worries in one another. It was a moment of warmth and comfort, the kind of moment shared between two people who had suffered so much and only had one another to fall back on.
We were so wrapped up in one another that we didn’t hear the footfalls of someone approaching, nor did we notice the presence in the doorway until Anahera cleared her throat pointedly and knocked on the door frame. Startled, we jerked away from one another and stared at her.
“Sorry to interrupt.” She was obviously trying very hard not to laugh at the expressions on our faces. We looked at one another, half-naked with hands in all kinds of interesting places, then promptly started frantically disentangling ourselves. By the time we were straightened up, both of us were blushing furiously, and Anahera could barely keep a straight face.
“Um, sorry.” I felt the need to apologise as I straightened my t-shirt, but she just shook her head.
“Don’t be, dear. I was your age not that long ago; I reme
mber what it’s like to be in love.” Her smile faded, and I felt a stab of guilt when I remembered how she had lost her husband to the plague. “Just make the most of him while you can. And you–” She pointed at Michael. “–take good care of her as well. Or else.”
Michael flashed his cheeky smile and saluted her, which looked a little ridiculous considering he was still dressed in his policeman’s cap.
“Don’t just stand out there in the wind, you’ll get hit by something.” He gestured towards the chair in the corner of room with a flourish, inviting her inside. Somehow, he even managed to sound nonchalant about it. “Come in, sit down. How’s Hemi?”
Anahera accepted the invitation and stepped inside, closing the door behind her to keep out the wind. It was getting loud outside, so I thought nothing of the gesture; with the door open we could hardly hear ourselves think.
“He’s fine, thank you,” she answered as she settled in the chair by the window, adjusting her clothing about her to get comfortable. “The good doctor has removed the pellet, and given him some antibiotics to ensure it doesn’t get infected.” Her lips twisted into an appreciative smile. “It seems we owe you gifts once again.”
“Oh, there’s no need for that.” Michael shook his head and gave her a smile in return. “Friends help friends, that’s all that matters. I’m sure you’d do the same for us if we needed help.”
“Absolutely,” she agreed amicably, then shifted her gaze to me. “I spoke with your sister.”
My heart leapt into my throat. “How is she?”
“She’s in a great deal of pain, but she is healing.” Anahera sighed heavily. “It will take time and support, and the love of the people around her. She told me that her man left her as well, and I fear that has only compounded her grief.”
I felt an arm creep around me and turned to look at Michael; the expression on his face was one of deep anger. Anahera seemed to notice it as well, but she said nothing.
“I don’t know how to help her,” I admitted, turning my attention back to our visitor. “I’ve forgotten how to be a sister. We were separated for a long time, and only found one another recently.”
Anahera nodded understandingly. “This is a strange world we live in, but I think there is more to your bond than just time spent together as adults. Just knowing that you’re here for her is enough.”
“How do you know?” I looked down at my hands, feeling helplessness hit me in the gut all over again. “I don’t know what she needs.”
“I know because she told me as much,” Anahera said. I looked up to find her regarding me with an expression that spoke of fondness. “She told me that if it weren’t for you, she would have nothing left to live for.”
“Oh.” I looked back down and leaned against Michael for support. “But I haven’t even done anything.”
“You don’t need to, dear. You’re her sister. That’s all that matters.” I could hear the smile in her voice without looking up, and found it reassuring somehow.
“Is there anything we can do to help her through the grieving process?” Michael asked.
“Perhaps.” I heard her shift in her seat, and glanced up to find her staring out the window at the raging storm. “I was going to suggest that some time away from the place where her baby died might help her. Of course, it is difficult to find somewhere safe in this world, so I thought some of you might like to come and visit my group for a few days. After the storm passes, that is.”
“That sounds like an interesting idea.” Michael gave me a squeeze. I looked up at him, staring deep into those kind eyes of his. “What do you think, Sandy? Shall we go for a visit?”
I stayed silent for a moment to consider the question, then looked back at Anahera, regarding her profile thoughtfully as she watched the weather.
My first instinct would have been to say no, to stay safely holed up in our little fortress with the people I knew I could trust, but I knew that feeling stemmed from cowardice. Anahera was a good person, as was her son Hemi. I liked them both and felt that I could trust them, especially after I had seen the way Anahera reacted to finding out one of her brethren had been preying on women and girls for years before he’d joined her tribe.
She had evicted him from her tribe without hesitation, mutilated him and thrown him out into the wilds as punishment for his crime. I didn’t have to go through a lengthy trial, recount my ordeal in great detail, and suffer through the horror of being judged by a jury. Nobody had tried to tell me that I’d been asking for it because of my gender or my state of dress, and nobody tried to pass it off as a misunderstanding. She had listened to me and confronted him, and when he was found guilty, her punishment had been swift.
In a way, I felt like I had gotten more justice from Anahera than I would have gotten in a court of law. I trusted her. With that thought in mind, I nodded my consent and we began to make plans for the nearest thing to a vacation that any of us had taken in a very long time.
Chapter Three
The storm raged for almost a day, tearing branches from trees and uprooting any plants and fixtures that were not lucky enough to be protected from the winds. Every so often, we’d hear the sound of something breaking or being thrown around, but we were safe within our precious haven.
No one even considered sending Anahera and Hemi back out into the storm. It just wasn’t an option. Their chances of making it home safely on those little farm bikes would be slim to non-existent. Luckily, our hotel had plenty of spare bedrooms and furniture that had survived the years, so we set them up with beds and insisted they stay the night. I wasn’t terribly surprised that neither of them protested.
Without power, lunch and dinner were solemn events. I did my best to cheer everyone up by assembling a salad with canned meat for protein, but I lacked my sister’s flair for creative cooking.
Skye didn’t leave her room the entire day. At mealtimes, I braved the weather to bring her food, but she barely even looked at me. Each time I checked on her, she was just sitting on her bed, staring out her window at the raging storm, clutching that tiny pink teddy bear. She ate the food I left for her, but never made any comments.
Night seemed to fall earlier than normal that evening, because the sun was obscured by the roiling clouds. I left the others to finish cleaning up the kitchen by candlelight, and went back upstairs to bring Skylar a little lantern for her room. For some reason, the thought of leaving her brooding in the dark made me feel sick to my stomach.
She was still sitting in exactly the same spot when I arrived, her eyes a million miles away. When I set the lantern down and turned it on, she stirred a little, as though coming out of a dream. Her head turned towards me. I looked back at her, and found her watching me with eyes that were sunken and hollow from grief. My heart lurched at the sight of the sorrow etched on her face.
I sat down beside her and wrapped my arm around her slender frame; she felt tiny and fragile now that the weight of her pregnancy had begun to fade. She’d always been slender and small-boned, but now it felt like I could break her if I gripped her too firmly. I wondered if that was how Michael felt, all those times when he held me as gently as if I were a porcelain doll. Now, I understood the feeling.
“Anahera invited us to stay with her clan for a couple of days.” I found myself talking to her automatically, even if she was away with the fairies. “So we’re going for a trip once the storm is over. Just for a little while. Anahera says it’ll be good for us to get away for a bit. I think she’s right. What do you think?” I wasn’t expecting an answer, so when I got one it just about gave me a heart attack.
“I think… I’d like that.” Skye shifted and snuggled up against me. “She’s really nice.”
“Yeah, she is,” I agreed, fighting to contain the flood of relief that poured through me from the simple fact that my little sister was talking to me again. “She’s downstairs with Hemi and the others. We were thinking of playing a game to pass the time. Why don’t you come and play with us?”
“Well, I found a few different ones while I was out exploring the other day. We could play a card game, if you want?” I suggested. She wrinkled her nose and shook her head.
“No, card games are boring.” She pulled a face, but apparently I had her attention now. Sometimes I had to remind myself that she was only eighteen. Our relationship had become a bit peculiar. To me, she’d gone from being an adorable eight-year-old to being a grown, very capable young woman without me having a chance to watch the change happen naturally. I was still struggling to work out how to cope with that. Sometimes I didn’t know whether to treat her like an adult or a child. Luckily, she seemed to understand how jarring the transition was for me, and was generally patient with me.
“What about a board game?” I suggested. “I found Cluedo, Monopoly, and Scrabble. Take your pick.”
“Oh, I remember Monopoly.” Her eyes lit up. “We used to play that with Mum and Dad.”
“Yeah, that’s right. I don’t remember the rules, but I’m sure we can figure it out.” I gave her a squeeze and held her close until she finally smiled and nodded.
That was all the permission I needed. I grabbed her hand and dragged her off for an evening of frivolity before she could lose herself in depression again.
The others joined us in the common room, and helped us to set up the board. None of us really remembered how to play and the instructions were faded with age, but between us we managed to figure out enough to get the game going. The pieces were dirty and tarnished, and the old paper money was wrinkled, but no one really minded. Although I offered to play with my sister as a team, she rejected the help with a stubborn determination that made my heart swell with joy. That was the Skylar I knew. Her personality was coming back at last.
The Survivors (Book 2): Autumn Page 3
