Trust your instincts, Grayson had said. She sat on her knees, close to bursting into tears. Is this why she had to find Iris? So her grandfather could finally rest?
Win shook, her fingers trembled. She didn’t want him to die. The thought of losing him broke her, she slumped against the wall, wet sticky tears trickling onto her chin.
I don’t want him to leave me. She sobbed, knowing she had been asked to do this for a reason. Grayson’s words came back to her, and something sparked in her memory. He’d told her a story about his dog, about the foxes digging her up.
Animals can smell death….they dig up the bones…
Win shifted, looking at her knees, at the worn floorboards. Underneath.
There was a loose board. Win dug her fingernails on the edge of one of the boards, feeling the wood splinter and crack as she tugged. It had been nailed down tight. Win heaved and pulled, sweat dripping down her neck as she wiggled it loose. In one fluid movement, the board snapped. She cried out, falling back onto her bottom with a thud. Win stared at the hole she had made, the scent so strong she could gag.
She could smell the decay. Getting on her stomach, she reached in her hand, praying she wouldn’t touch a spider or a rat. She tapped along the space until her hand bumped something. Closing her fingers around it, she pulled the object along. Win looked in the hole, hauling out a dusty wooden box.
The stench was so strong her eyes watered. Fearing what she would find inside, she flipped the catch, the whole time feeling the creeping sensation of eyes upon her back.
Inside the box was an old worn cloth, with a pretty floral pattern laced around the edges. Win blinked, already knowing what she would find within, and knowing she had to be strong enough to see it with her own eyes. Biting down on her lip, hard enough to draw blood, she unwrapped the cloth, revealing the small, delicate animal bones of Iris Hickory, long dead and long forgotten.
Nine
ON WEAK LEGS, Win held the box to her chest and made her way down the stairs to the first floor. Judy was crossing the landing and shrieked when she saw the girl in the hallway. Sweaty, wild-haired, barefoot, covered in dirt, and her eyes peculiar, horrifying yellow.
“Miss Winifred,” she breathed, clutching her chest. “What are you doing here?”
“I want to see Robert,” Win said through gritted teeth. She pushed past the nurse, who took a wide step away. The way Win looked right now, the odd angles and shape of her eyes, no one would dare to get in her path. Slowly she pushed open the old man’s door with the tips of her fingers.
He was sitting up in bed as if he were expecting her. When she stepped into the lamplight of his room, he visibly receded into the pillow. All the curtains were pulled tight, the room was stuffy and humid, and the smell of urine made her nostrils flare. Win briefly caught sight of her reflection in a mirror near his bed, she saw what he saw, and it was startling. Her eyes looked as though they’d been pulled back in her head, stretched across her face, demonic.
“Witch,” he hissed as she stepped closer. “Little red witch.”
Win sneered, showing him her teeth. He choked. “You’re a murderer. Your whole family are killers.”
First Callum Fraser, found guilty of loving a Hickory girl. Now Iris.
“Why?” she spat. “She was your wife; how could you lock her up there?”
“Because I loved her.” He withered, trembled, gasped as she stepped closer. “You devil.”
“I’m not a devil…or a witch. Why did you kill her?”
He shook his head against the pillow. “I didn’t know….”
“You must have known what she was,” Win pressed him.
“She begged to go home after we married, couldn’t stand to be parted from her precious brother.” Robert faltered, his breathing raspy and shallow.
Win’s brows flew up, fists clenching. “You were jealous? She had to come home. We are bound to this place. She had to come home.”
The old man’s eyes were narrow and hooded, looking at her as though she were something he’d had the misfortune to tread on. “When we moved in here…she started to change. I caught her sometimes. It was filthy… an animal…a curse on my beautiful Iris.”
Win hissed. “It wasn’t a curse on her. It’s on all of us. It wasn’t anything she did. You locked her away?”
“I didn’t know she would die up there. But she starved herself…said she would kill herself unless I let her be free. I didn’t believe her.”
Win stepped back, broken and defeated. “I’m taking her home now…but,” she said, whirling around again, seeing him flinch and pull back. “You let my grandpa believe she was alive… she’d run away. You tortured him for years.”
“He was a devil too…as ruined and cursed as her.” Robert practically frothed at the mouth. “My poor Iris…get out of here, you little—”
Win laughed bitterly. “It must kill you knowing Luke and Spencer are blood-related to us.”
The old man snarled in his bed, his skeletal face contorting and twisting in bitter agony. “Disgusting…nasty…”
Win flew at him, having the momentary pleasure of watching him gag and scramble backward. She licked her lips inches above his chin, her eyes hideously drawn to the fading pulse, beating right by his throat. She could smell death alright, and he wasn’t far off. She could smell fear, too, wafts of it, leaving a nasty stench under the bedclothes. Win ran a tongue over her canines, wondering what it would be like to taste the blood rushing under his skin.
His eyes rounded in terror. “You little red witch,” he hissed, spitting drops of salvia on her.
Win pulled back her lips into a grim smile. “I’m not a witch. But I am an animal.” She put a hand on either side of his body, drinking in every last drop of his fear. “And when you die, it won’t matter how deep they dig your hole. I’ll find you. And I’ll enjoy playing with your carcass...that’s what animals do. They dig shit up.”
Win sensed his heartbeat fading in his chest. He jerked on the bed, gasping for breath. She pulled away, snapping out of her daze, staring down at the horrible old thing who used to be a powerful man. Holding the box tight to her chest, she slipped out of the room, giving Judy a long hard look as she ascended the stairs, daring her to get in her way. The woman called after her, but Win didn’t hear anything but the roaring inside her head.
I went too far. She ran out through the front door, letting it clang behind her, before collapsing on the stones of the driveway. I went too far. I could have killed him.
Her hands were shaking so badly she had to set the box down at her feet. When she looked down, her vision blurred; she saw pointed claws where her fingernails should have been.
It’s not real, it’s not real. Win wretched, her stomach turning over, the pain across her temples enough to make her want to vomit.
Slowly she got to her feet. Laughter floated out of the house, making her pause. If she had been further away, she might not have picked up on it at all, but instinctively her ears pricked back—soft girlish, oblivious laughter coming from inside the house. A door slammed shut near the back of the house.
Get out of here, she thought to herself. Get home, find Rowan. She started away but lifted her chin and sniffed the air. Fresh linen and soap. It was Luke. Win narrowed her eyes. Why had he come through the back door? On leaden feet, Win found herself walking back to the front door, not even able to look at the Virgin Mary in the eye. Win didn’t think she was worth praying for after what she’d said to his grandfather. She swallowed the words down, sickened at herself. She let the door swing open quietly. If Luke was here, she needed to see him. She had to explain. There was so much to tell him.
Her shoulders lifted, a tingly feeling crossing the back of her neck, her feet quiet on the boards as she followed the sound of the voices. Two voices. Her brows lifted.
It was Ella. Win breathed a sigh of relief. They must have got tired at the festival and come home for a break. Her pace qui
ckened, following the voices into the parlor, those painted eyes staring down at her from the walls. The parlor was empty, the door to the office wide open from where she had been earlier in the day. Win hadn’t noticed another door off the sprawling orangery, tucked away like a den.
She reached for the handle; the room was dark and hot. Win blinked, throwing on a light switch on the wall, and hurtled backward in surprise. There were two bodies on the couch, twisted and entwined, the air thick with sweat.
“Shit! Sorry!” Win gasped.
Luke yelled and jumped off Ella in fright. Win stared at them, red-faced and open-mouthed, as Ella scrambled for her shorts. Luke ducked behind the couch, trying to wrestle back into his pants. Win saw far more than she wanted to.
Win made a noise in her throat, a tight knot pulling in her gut before she backed out of the room and slammed the door. She made it to the hall before Ella came bounding after her.
“Win, please!” she cried, grabbing her arm and twisting her around. She was a sweaty mess, her hair stuck to her damp forehead, and she smelled…Win’s stomach rolled. That was what sex smelled like; it reminded her of her time in Boston, being trapped on the bus with hormonal teenagers. It reminded her of Jack White.
“Win, we’re sorry….” Ella spluttered.
“How long have you been…?” Win didn’t even need the answer; it was obvious, written in the guilty look in Ella’s eyes. Luke ran up behind her, buttoning his shirt.
“Don’t you know how to knock, Adler?” He was furious, his hair stuck up in places at the back.
Win’s heart dropped; she couldn’t understand why she felt so wronged. They’d lied to her—all summer.
“I wanted to talk to you.” Win’s eyes clouded with tears. “I needed to speak to you.” Her voice cracked, and Ella tried to take her hand, but Win jerked back angrily. “Why didn’t you tell me? You knew I’d be happy for you.”
“Hey, what we do in private is our business!” Luke threw at her, and Win was stung.
She sidestepped away, but Ella grabbed her arm. “Luke, don’t be a jerk!” she snapped at him before staring up at Win imploringly. “I should have told you…I don’t know why I didn’t….”
“We don’t have to explain anything!” Luke snapped, crossing his arms.
No, they didn’t, Win realized. But the hard truth of knowing this had been going on the whole time, right under her nose, and she had been totally unaware, too caught up in her own dramas to see what was happening.
A shape hovered on the stairs. Judy was stood, arms crossed and with a grim expression.
“Luke, that girl is no longer welcome in this house!” The maid’s voice jolted the three of them apart. Win stared dismally at her feet, trying to quell the rage, burning like a bonfire.
“Win, I’m so sorry,” Ella begged, and Judy was busy telling Luke about the way she had talked to his grandfather.
“I think I’ll be the judge of who gets invited to my home,” Luke snapped at Judy. They were arguing, and Win couldn’t think straight. Her vision was blurred, and she stared at her feet to regain focus, her toes covered in mud. What had happened to her shoes? She’d lost them along the way. Ella was talking, but Win’s face burned. Her mouth hurt. A dull ache spread along her gums, biting and wincing. They were all talking at once, and she couldn’t think. She couldn’t see.
She snapped. “Shut up, all of you!” She looked up, filled with animalistic rage. Ella shrieked and barrelled backward, bumping Luke’s chest. He stared at her in dismay, his eyes rounding in horror.
“Win…your face.”
Hot, white pain scorched her upper lip, her eyes watered as she turned to face the hallway mirror. Win shuddered in disgust at what stared back at her. It was her, staring wild-eyed, but the eyes belonged to an animal, yellow, narrowed, and curved. Win reached her thumbs to her mouth, carefully dabbing the swollen mound of her upper lip until she touched the teeth, the two long canines extended down, long enough to touch her chin. Win stumbled backward, unable to stand another moment of staring at her ghastly reflection. She couldn’t stand to see her friends gaping at her.
She crashed through the door, letting it slam behind her. Picking up the box, tears streaking her face, she sprinted into the forest.
Ten
SHE RAN WITHOUT seeing her path, until her feet bled, skin splitting over the sharp debris of the woody ground. Win’s calf muscles burned, and she fell to her knees, breathing fast and short. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Ella’s face, her horrified expression. Collapsing on her stomach, she closed her eyes and lay still, shivering and hot at the same time.
Was this the beginning of it for her? Was the call was upon her before she had time to properly adjust? Everyone was so quick to tell her she wasn’t ready, her journey not yet complete. But had she brought this on herself? Had she forced the change?
Win rolled onto her back, staring up through the trees, shielding her from the sun trying to pry its way through. She clutched the box under her arm, holding it tight to her chest. When the sweat cooled on her skin, she lifted her neck, letting her thumbs press slowly against her top lip. She winced as she hit the swollen skin. She gingerly dabbed along until she touched the canines. Win shrieked.
Go away, go away, please. Tears rolled down her face, into her tangled hair. She covered her eyes and sobbed into her hands. Win felt awful, recalling Ella’s expression, her fright. She had never wanted to yell at her friend.
I really am an animal.
The afternoon breeze cooled her feverish brow as she pulled into a sitting position, every muscle protesting as she lifted to her feet. Couldn’t she stay on the ground a while longer? Win staggered through the woods, clutching the box, no idea of the direction she’d taken. Tilting her head, she thought she smelt burning— a campfire. She was near Grayson’s camp, the place they usually met.
Oh no… She didn’t want to see him right now. But it seemed she had run straight for him. Win wondered if it had been an unconscious decision. Rubbing the back of her neck, she plowed back in the other direction, her legs wobbly. Her mouth throbbed with a dull, splintering ache, earning a yelp out of her every time she checked if the teeth were still there. They were.
Dizziness swept over her. Reaching for a stump, she lowered herself down, hugging her knees to her chest.
Ella’s shriek was sharp in her memory. The way she’d staggered backward, her eyes alight with shock. She couldn’t stand to think they might be afraid of her, and she would be rejected. Ella had been lying to her. All summer. Win shook her head as if to cast away the memory of the two of them tangled up with one another on the couch, unaware and so wrapped up with lust to even hear her step in the room. Win admitted to a pang of loneliness, mixed in with something else, a feeling she didn’t want to acknowledge. Envy.
She slumped down on her bottom, allowing herself to cry into her hands. Fear lodged in her throat. Resting her chin on her knees, losing herself in self-pity.
The undergrowth rustled, a shape appeared in the trees, Grayson emerged. Win crawled back against the stump, covering her face. He held up his hands to reassure her, bending low as he approached.
“Win, it's okay,” he said, creeping toward her. “I couldn’t leave you any longer. You’ve been sitting there for an hour.”
“Don’t look at me!” she cried as he gently lowered himself onto one knee. She peered over her arms, watching as he pulled down his mask, his brow furrowed. He took one of her ankles in her hand, examining her muddy barefoot, chipped nail polish, he pulled her leg flat. She scrambled away, but his grip was firm. “Let me see,” he said firmly.
“No,” Win shook her head violently; she thrashed back as he took both her ankles and flattened her legs. “I’m hideous, Grayson.”
“I highly doubt that,” he insisted, taking both her wrists in his gloved hands. “Let me look at you.”
She cried out as he managed to wrestle her arms down. She couldn’t b
ear to open her eyes, not if she saw revulsion in his. She dipped her chin, bursting into tears. “Stop it!”
Squeezing her eyes tightly, she felt the leather of the gloves against either side of her face and his thumbs hooked under her chin. He took a sharp breath, assessing what he could see. Forcibly, he tilted her chin; she had never been more exposed. He touched a fang, and it throbbed so hard she jerked. “Don’t! It hurts!”
“Open your eyes.”
Win refused, keeping them welded, tears leaked out from under her thick lashes. “Please stop looking at me, Grayson. I don’t know how to make them go away.”
He moved closer, sneaking his arm around her back, all the while, she refused to open her eyes, even when his breath tickled her neck, his body warm against hers.
“I’m a freak, Grayson—I don’t want you to see me like this.”
He didn’t answer, only leaned closer. He kissed her eyebrow, his mouth so warm, she tensed in surprise. He took her face in his hands. The pad of his calloused thumb stroked across her chin, dangerously close to her incisors. He kissed his way down to her cheekbone; her heart sped up, her hands finding the collar of his jacket for support.
“Grayson…”
“Will you shush?” he whispered. “Be quiet for once in your life.”
It was hard to concentrate. He was kissing her face sweeping over the dried tears, down to her neck, trailing fire over her throat. She leaned her neck back to allow him access, hooking a leg over his in an attempt to pull him closer. He planted fiery kisses all the way up to her chin, dangerously close to her bared teeth. Win opened her eyes, pulling back. She couldn’t stand it if he tried to kiss her mouth, not with those sharp things there.
He released her, she fell back to earth, feeling the cold ground beneath her, hardly realizing she’d been holding onto him so tightly. He leaned in again, his eyes hot on hers, touching his top lip to her lower one. She tugged back. “No…the teeth.”
“What teeth?” he smiled, propped on one arm as she gasped and traced along her top lip with her tongue. They were gone. She cried out in relief, throwing her arms around his neck. She breathed into his hair, his arm holding her tightly.
Wild Spirit: Huntress Page 11
