“I know but—I wouldn’t have hurt her—or you. I was biding my time, trying to think how I could get away.”
“You should have told me,” Win cried, hardly able to bear seeing him at her feet. He leaned into her lap, his hands on her bare calves, clawing up her legs. She tried to push him away.
Win wiped at her sticky face. Her throat hollow, and her palms burned. “Why does she want us dead? What have we ever done to you?”
Grayson looked up, his pale eyes red. “Your grandfather killed my brother.”
Win choked. She sucked in air through her teeth. “What?”
“It was years ago. I was eight years old. I was sketching by the brook, it was my favorite place, and your grandfather found me as the wolf. He let me draw him.” Grayson half-smiled. “My brother saw it one day and tried to shoot him. But your grandfather killed him, ripped his throat out.”
“I’m sorry.” Win found her hands in his hair. But her resolve was steel, and she shook her head. “I’m sorry you lost your brother. But I saw some of my family in the room, who’ve been long, dead, over a hundred years ago. How can you explain that?”
“Please forgive me, Win.” He grabbed at her dress, pulling himself up. “I don’t know how to give you those answers. I can’t explain it.”
Lightly, she pressed her hands to his chest, pushing him away. “I need to go,” she said, emotion clogging her throat. “I need to think.”
“No,” Grayson begged, taking her hands in his, bringing them up to his face so he could kiss her palms. “You won’t come back.”
“You’ve been lying to me all this time.” She pushed past him. If he kept kissing her, kept talking, she would end up caving. “I don’t know you anymore. I’m not sure I ever did. Rowan was right, and I’ve been so blind.”
“Okay, wait!” He blocked her path. Win looked skyward in frustration. “Maybe, in the beginning, I was watching you. I was doing as she asked. But it stopped, the night of the bonfire; I knew I couldn’t do anything to hurt you. I swear to you!”
Win’s palms burned, her insides ached. She needed to move. “Grayson, please let me go.”
“But when will I see you?” he begged, crestfallen. “I can’t lose you Win.”
He pinned her arms to her sides, kissing her damp face, hungrily seeking out her mouth. Win yelped and pushed him back, holding up a hand. “Enough, Grayson! Don’t push me.”
“You asked me not so long ago to run away?” he pleaded. “Let’s go now. We could go anywhere you want.”
Win’s temper quivered, her nerves bristling. Did he even hear himself? “Go where? I’m stuck here, remember? Now you need to go and sort out the woman you tied up in that cabin. And I need to go home. Please!” She held up both hands as he approached again. “I mean it. Stay away! You keep that woman away from my family and me—it’s the least you can do.”
Win turned and fled, her feet brisk over the damp undergrowth. She flicked her eyes back once, making sure he hadn’t moved, her guts churning. He always saw her home. His massive silhouette grew smaller the further away she got. A thought sprang into her mind. Why was she leaving? She needed to burn those bodies. She would have already if he hadn't interrupted her.
“Grayson!”
His head snapped back in her direction, his chest heaving in relief. She stalked back toward him. “You want to make this right?”
“Anything.” God, he looked terrible, ashen. She could feel sorry for him. Almost.
“You need to help me burn down that cabin. Or do it yourself!”
His brows drew inward, his bottom lip dropping. “What? I can't do that.”
“Yes, you can!” She was burning, her face on fire, uncomfortably hot. “I walked away from my sister today. You have no idea what she’s had to sacrifice, what she had to do so our grandfather could move on. Now I have to do that for my family. I owe her, and you owe me. Prove to me …” Her voice broke. “That you do love me.”
He attempted to take her wrist, but she snatched it out of his reach. “I do.”
“Then help me. Please.”
His breathing quickened, glancing back at the cabin through the trees, swallowing sickly. “Alright.” He nodded, though he looked terrified. “Alright.”
Grayson turned, stalking toward the cabin. She fell in line beside him as they walked. “I don't know how...I need to move her…” He was scared, buying time in his head. He was desperate, the cogs in his brain trying to make sense of what she was asking—a dangerous price.
Win’s fingers itched, her palms tingling. Pain exploded in her temples. A deep, urgent throb made her vision spin. She reached out blindly, catching the edge of his jacket as she dropped to her knees.
Bent double, she sobbed, her body quivering. Panting, she tried to keep walking, but her feet burned. She fell to her knees again, her palms scorching with heat. Blue light gleamed from her fingertips.
“Win, what's wrong?”
Oh, not now, she thought wildly. Not this now. She got up, staggered a few feet, slumping to the ground. Something snapped inside her ribs. A dull popping noise filled her head. Each one of her ribs cracked, one by one, splintering pain searing through her midsection. Grayson was trying to hold her shoulders. His voice was an echo; she barely registered it.
She wailed into the air, her scream shattering the silence of the night. Birds took off from their trees, and animals fled from their hiding places. Win sobbed and rolled onto her side, clutching her stomach. Her spine arched at a perilous angle, tail bone to occipital pulling back so harshly they could have connected. Her vision whited, blinded, she waited for the pain to subside, only to be tugged again so hard, vertebrae shattered in her ears.
Her eyes watered, and she screamed in agony. She lolled to her side, only to see Grayson drop to his knees beside her.
His face twisted in horror. “Win...What’s going on?”
She couldn’t speak. The pain left her mute, her vocal cords useless. What came out of her mouth was a gurgled mess. Grasping blindly for his hand, tears soaked her skin. She mumbled something, which sounded like a cry for help, before she was attacked again. Blue light shot out from her fingers, splitting through her nailbeds, the skin peeled back, letting long, sharp talons protrude from the bone. Win convulsed.
“Win, what can I do?” Grayson yelled.
She shook her head, his face spun above her, nausea rolled in her stomach. She rolled away and vomited into the leaves. Her organs were shrinking inside her. She choked on the saliva building rapidly in her mouth. She spat it out, gurgled it back up before choking again.
“Win,” Grayson sobbed. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Help me,” she moaned.
She couldn’t speak anymore; she writhed and moaned on the floor, her gums splitting, blood dripping down the back of her throat. She rolled onto her stomach, trying to claw her way across the ground, digging her nails into the mud. Her legs were numb, dead limbs dragging behind her. Her spine fractured, her collar bone protruding out of her skin. She lay there, falling forwards, chin thudding on the ground, saliva pooling out of the side of her mouth.
He was sorry.
He was gone. Win moaned. Reaching out her mutated hand in the direction he’d run.
Come back. Please come back.
She lifted herself up onto her forearms, but her lungs squeezed, and she slumped down, passing out, only to wake a few moments later, her arms pinging and cracking, wrenched at odd angles. A shard of bone pierced through her upper bicep, shredding through muscle and fat.
Every tendon in her back lacerated and snapped, her eyes rolled back as the blue light shot out of her mouth, turning her scream into something else. She was going to die. Her lungs were crushed, her bowels twisting, starved of air, she waited for the moment of release.
Win’s skin peeled away from her muscles, the skeleton underneath breaking, disintegrating. Her vision went black, and she passed out again, her
body shutting down. The destroyed muscle of her heart slowed to a fading beat.
Thud.
Thud.
Then nothing.
Twenty Seven
STARS. THEY PASSED before her. Win’s gaze followed the glow of the blue light.
I’m really dead this time. Her limbs were numb. She was weighted to the ground, warmth seeping into every split, every tear. Her blood congealed. It fizzed, crackled underneath her. The blue light enveloped her, lifted her, weightless, suspended. It lapped her up, waves rocking her, cradling her.
Win thought of her sister, of how angry she’d be when she found out. What would Rowan do? Who would find her body in the woods? A splintered smile formed on her lips. She thought of Ella and how much she would miss her. She wished she could tell her, now, how much her friendship had meant, her acceptance. And Luke. Her heart slowed, a gentle thud, seconds apart. The seconds grew longer. Her smile faded, and tears slid down her cheeks and down to her ears. Luke, she’d miss him, his snarky smile. She’d even miss his sarcasm.
Be brave. It’s all you can be in the end...
The beats were fading, and her eyes were heavy. She would try to be brave.
The stars twinkled with new life; energy cemented her skeleton back together like she was a scattered puzzle. Sighing, she closed her eyes. Before she shut them, the blue wolf passed by her body, its eyes raking over what was left of her. In her mind, Win reached for him with her fingers, though her hands were dead weights.
Grandpa…why didn’t you tell me about him? Why didn’t you tell me?
The wolf hung its head. Because… I would have had to admit what I did all those years ago—I killed a boy. And I couldn’t stand to see the look in your eyes when I told you. It’s part of our curse Win, to live in shame from the things we do. And I’ve got so many things to be ashamed of.
The great wolf gave her an approving once over with his eyes, before he lifted his muzzle skyward and howled at the stars.
When she woke, her eyes were seeing through a different body. She rose to her paws languidly, the agility at which she moved surprising her after what had happened. She was shocked her mind hadn’t gone altogether.
She crawled to the brook, leaping down to the rocks, the cold water rushing past her. Win looked over the water, her gaze cast down to the inky blackness, shiny as a mirror, she saw her reflection. A jaguar stared back at her. Its lower jaw slack, breath coming in short pants, two large incisors sharp enough to tear flesh, reflected off the water. Win marveled at her face. The depth of her eyes, hooded with dark markings, so intricate, like they’d been printed around her face. Black marks circled her golden eyes, sketched on with precise strokes; they drew down into the inner corners near her ducts, dripping down onto the brow of her nose, like two black tears. She was golden, rust, and white, the magnificent rosettes running the whole length of her body. Win prowled the brook, unable to look away from the beast, the fine, sleek creature admiring her back.
You screwed up this time.
The trees rustled, and she jerked her head. Grayson! Grayson?
But it was a squirrel darting through the trees. Win shook her head, her ears picking up every rustle, snap, and movement. She was dizzy, and there were faint rumblings in her belly. She was starving. Aimlessly she wandered the brook, her throat dry from thirst. Leaning across the edge, she shuddered as a long pink tongue crept out of her mouth and lapped at the cold water. Greedily she drank it down, but it wasn’t enough to quell the aching hunger building inside her.
Grayson. Where did he go?
Win found their camp, where they’d been only hours ago. She looked away in shame. The blankets were strewn across the dirt. He’d wrapped her human body in a blanket and made love to her again under it. Sickness rose in her throat.
He left me.
What felt like her heart, crushed in her chest cavity. Was it even her heart anymore? How had her human body endured this? Adrenaline flooded her legs like she could outrun a car. She knew she could. But she was alone in the forest, and she needed to get home. Her breath came in grunts as she ran through the trees.
Rowan would know what to do, wouldn’t she? This didn’t feel like something you could switch on and off. This felt permanent, a new body, and a new life. Win raced through the long grass, her paws so deft she barely touched the ground. She neared her home. God, she was fast. She could see the lights of Hickory House blinking in the distance.
She isn’t home. She’s with Evan. A voice came from above. Win lifted her muzzle, narrowing her eyes at the small bird perched high above her. Win didn’t dare meet the falcon’s gaze. She seemed to look right into her as though she could see the shame plastered across her face.
She’ll kill me.
She’s your sister. She loves you!
Mom…what have I done?
The falcon hopped down a few branches. Win could feel the intensity of its burning eyes on her, and she bowed her head.
This is what happens when you have sex with a boy! There was mirth in her voice, but Win’s insides rolled with embarrassment.
How can I get back to me?
You need to give it time. Your body will reject the animal as soon as it’s ready. Are you okay?
I thought I died.
You aren’t going to die, Win. You’re more alive now than ever before. Bask in it. Don’t you feel strong?
Yes, Win admitted. But I’m terrified. He lied to me. I turned away from Rowan, from Dad.
Because you loved him.
Win sensed wetness on her muzzle. Was it raining, or was she crying? I was stupid.
Win, you know what you have to do. You have to set them free.
The falcon nestled in some lower branches. Win slumped in the leaves, exhaustion and hunger washing over her. Set them free? There was a beginning of an idea forming, her grandfather’s voice lingering in her memory. She closed her eyes and remembered his burial. They had to burn. Could she do that?
You are unstoppable. Don’t you know? Can’t you feel the power? There’s so much you can do, sweetheart. I know you’ll figure it out. I can help you. But we might need human help.
Dad?
No, no bad idea.
Win stared at the house. There was a light on downstairs, flickering against the inky night sky. Win realized Luke must have come home from his shift at the bar. She prowled toward the house, leaving the falcon waiting in the distance. She jogged across the yard, odd seeing it from this lower level, her vision was blurry at the corners, but the angles and the contours of the house were razor sharp. Her head snapped left. A rat scuttled out from under a truck.
Instinct took over, and Win leapt. The rat stood little chance; she caught it in a massive paw, spearing it with two-pronged claws, its little guts ripping. Win stuffed it between her jaws, her teeth gnawing and crunching bones, reminding her of times when she accidentally chewed eggshell. The creature’s copper blood leaked between her gums. Sickly, she swallowed, the rat hit her stomach, and she instantly gagged.
She threw up behind the truck, her eyeballs bugging as she heaved the meager contents of her stomach out onto the grass. The mangled creature’s bones stuck in her teeth.
That was gross!
Retching, she wandered around the house. How was she going to get in? Wondering if the back porch was unlocked, she leaped silently up the steps, bumping the porch door with her head. It swung inward. The house was so quiet. She prowled through, her claws clipping the wooden floor. She rounded the staircase, wishing she could disappear up there and go to her bed, sleep this nightmare off. Sniffing the air, she smelled Luke. He always smelled like clean linen and, more recently, old beer and leftovers from the bar. Win’s stomach growled again. Keeping her back low to the ground, she peeked around the corner of his door. He was sitting on his bed cross-legged, earbuds in and staring at his laptop. She rolled her eyes—no doubt fiddling with the Wi-Fi.
Grandpa will go insane if he ca
n’t watch CSI Miami. Win’s throat clenched; she pushed the sorrow away. She wished he was here.
The light from the screen bounced off Luke’s glasses. He didn’t notice her at the foot of the bed. She lifted her muzzle, waiting patiently for him to realize she was there. God, what was he so enthralled with? Porn?
Luke! Win made an attempt to speak, but it came out like a strange gurgled chug. The sound rumbled in her chest. It was strange hearing her jaguar voice out loud. Luke lifted his eyes, flicking to her, his lips parted. He stared, and she wondered if he thought he was looking at a giant stuffed animal, like the panda they’d won at the fair, the night of the bonfire. When she made the chugging noise again, he screeched, his legs and arms going in two separate directions.
“Holy fucking Christ!” he yelled, scrambling up the bed, whacking his head on the metal wrung. He grabbed a book and threw it at her. It hit her brow bone, and she yelped.
He started to yell and throw anything he could, pillows, books, his laundry. He picked up his kindle, for the briefest moment, considered chucking it at her, and tossed it down on the bed. His feet skidded across the floor as he tried to get out of the room. Win blocked his path. She reared on hind legs, hitting him squarely in the chest with both paws, so he tumbled back on top of the bed.
Luke! Luke! It’s me!
“Get out! Get out!” he yelled, his voice abnormally high pitch. If it wasn’t her he was scared of, she might actually find this amusing. Win thought if she tried to remain still, he might calm down; he was eyeing the door, trying to work out the logistics of leaping off the bed and escaping through it.
Luke, come on! It’s me.
He was sweating, still wearing his Hardy’s shirt. There were damp patches under his arms, his glasses lying crooked across his nose. Panting, he edged into a corner, climbing on top of a filing cabinet. Frustrated, Win sat, lying on the rug and folding her two giant paws, thinking if she could look gentle, serene, he might realize it was her. He was edging toward the window, though she didn’t think he’d ever squeeze through.
Luke? Luke? Come on. Luke, Luke, Luke! Luke! She made a noise again, and he whimpered.
Wild Spirit: Huntress Page 28
