Darlings of Decay

by Chrissy Peebles

  I put my hands on my belly and said, “I’m pregnant.”

  Sebastian blinked, then frowned and stepped toward me. It took everything I had to hold my ground as I thought of his face as he snarled at me at the gate.

  With slow, deliberate steps, Sebastian approached me.

  I watched his eyes as he reached for me, and I held perfectly still. With the softest of touches, his fingertips rested on my bump, the slight frown of confusion swiftly followed by the flush of understanding. His fingers trembled across my belly and I lifted my shirt so he could touch the skin and feel the changes in my body. His hand brushed across my belly button and then cupped the small swell of our child within me. I looked up to see his eyes wide and sparkling with unshed tears. In that moment, I knew that Sebastian would never truly lose himself, he was too strong for that and he loved me too much to forget me.

  “I love you, Sebastian.” My words, simple and true as they were, sparked something in him.

  He let out a low keening wail as he slid to his knees, pressing his cheek against my stomach. A flash of fear warmed my skin, but I put it out. I couldn’t truly be afraid of my husband, he didn’t have it in him to kill the Alpha, and there was no way he would hurt me or our child.

  “I have to go.” I pulled away, and Sebastian looked up, his eyes betraying his every emotion. “I have to get more food, clothes, and things. I’m going to Dan’s first.” Maybe that was too much hope on my part, thinking he could fully understand, but I had to believe.

  I tucked my shirt in and adjusted the backpack. I trailed my fingertips across his face and then stepped back from him. I smiled, then turned and started walking, trusting that my heart was telling me the truth and I was not being another fool in love.

  Footsteps from behind sped my pulse, but he wasn’t running. He was keeping pace with me. As we walked, twenty feet between us, I thought about what it was that compelled me to trust him. Was it the love we shared? Yes, somewhat, but I think more than that—

  Sebastian growled and the tension around us rose. I glanced over my shoulder to see him snarling at the bush where a bird suddenly took flight. I shook my head and picked up my train of thought again. More than the love, it was that I knew him; I knew the person he was, and how set he was in his own beliefs and standards. He hadn’t just been a good man; he’d lived his life as a good man, what he said and what he did always matched up. Even though he was a Nevermore now, I could still see those qualities in him, and they were what allowed me to trust him.

  Ten minutes, and I pushed my way through a small clump of huckleberries and found myself in Dan’s backyard. I pulled back and peeked out through the bush. No need to go running into Nevermores at this point in the game.

  For several minutes I waited, breathing in the sweet and intoxicating scent of the flowers on the huckleberry bush. A soft shuffle from behind me, and I went very still, a warm breath whispering down the back of my neck. Sebastian’s hands circled around me, brushing first my belly, then my waist and sliding up to cup my breasts. I tried to think straight as he pressed his lips to the back of my neck, nuzzling the tender skin behind my ear. He let out a low purr and then pushed me out of the bush and into the garden.

  I gasped in a lungful of air and spun to hear a soft chuckle from the huckleberry bush. I couldn’t help but smile. Damn, even now, even this way, he wanted me and I wanted him. That was love; it had the power to overcome any physical change in each other.

  Dan’s key was cool in my hand, but I didn’t need it. The door was unlocked. Stepping into the dim interior, I waited for my eyes to adjust to the low light before going any further. I shut the door behind me, locking it for good measure. It was musty and warm, the windows all shut tight and the air stale from no movement. Eerie, and with more than a measure of feeling haunted, the house echoed my footsteps as I started my search.

  The obvious places were first, kitchen and pantry, both of which were full to the brim with food, preserves, cans of fruit, and pasta. A bag of dried milk. My mouth watered at the thought of dairy, even fake dairy, and I scrambled to find myself some water to mix it with. I didn’t have to look far. Dan had stacks upon stacks of individual-sized bottled water in the pantry. I pulled one out and mixed in the evaporated milk, shaking it for good measure.

  I downed every last drop of it, the chalky texture and faint milk flavour heavenly to my deprived taste buds. The stress of the walk, my moment with Sebastian, the fact that I was pregnant and already tired, along with my huge guzzle of milk left me more than a little sleepy. I shook the feeling off, though. I couldn’t dawdle here, there was too much chance that the pack would come looking for Sebastian—or worse, Jessica would come looking for him.

  I climbed the stairs to the upper level, the weight of the air seeming to grow heavier with each step. On the top step, a creak sounded from inside the house and it wasn’t me.

  Frozen to the spot, I strained my ears, listening till they were ringing with the silence. After several minutes with no more noise, I convinced myself to take another step and that’s when the gun was shoved into my face.

  “What the hell are you doing breaking into my house, woman?” Dan snarled, as he stared down his rifle at me.

  “Dan. I thought . . . I mean, I found . . . bones,” I stuttered out.

  He lowered the gun. “Well, at least you ain’t one of them.” Dan brushed past me and clomped downstairs. “Come on, woman, I told you I’d give you food and weapons if you made it here, and you did.”

  I followed him, my mouth dry, and my heart not sure if it was going to gallop away with me or stop completely. It seemed to settle on an unsteady rhythm that left me more than a little wobbly of leg.

  “I see you’ve made yourself at home,” Dan said as he pointed to the open bag of dried milk.

  I shrugged, determined not to feel bad. “I thought you were dead.”

  He grunted and went to packing my backpacks with food. “This should last you for a while. Come back when you need more.” He handed me one pack full, two empty. That wasn’t going to be enough, not by a long shot.

  “I’m pregnant, Dan. I need to take more than that; I need to stockpile the food at my place. Unless you want me to move in here with you.”

  “Shit.” He spit on the floor. “Why’d you go and get knocked up? I sure as hell hope it ain’t by that infected man of yours.”

  I sucked in a breath. “How do you know about Sebastian?”

  “One of those things was following him, a young female. She wasn’t interested in eating him. So I shot at him.”

  “What?” That was what Sebastian had been trying to tell me about Dan, that he’d been shooting at him. A tap on one of the windows brought my head around.

  Sebastian peered in through the dirty glass, his head cocked to one side. Dan snapped his gun up, and I pushed it down. “No! Stop, he’s not like the rest of them!” Sebastian snarled at Dan and I put my hand up on the window.

  The snarl faded and he mimicked me, putting his hand against mine. Dan’s eyebrows rose. “Well, I’ll be buggered.”

  “He remembers me, Dan, I don’t know how or why—but he does. Please don’t shoot him.”

  “For now. But if he shows even the slightest inclination to attack, that’s it, he’s done.”

  I nodded and let out a breath. “Thank you.” I looked around the pantry. “Now, can we please fill the other backpacks?”

  “I ain’t helping you move this stuff, woman. I ain’t stepping outside this house except for my own needs, no one else’s,” Dan said.

  I put a can of tomatoes in. “That’s fine, Dan. I thank you for the food; I don’t expect you to help me pack it.”

  We filled the packs with the heavier stuff, cans, sauces, and rice. I could make more trips this way, bringing home the lighter loads the more tired and pregnant I got. I stepped outside, one backpack on and one in each hand, and Dan raised his gun, pointing it past me.

  “I hope you’re right about your man, for your sak
e, woman,” he said as he slowly shut the door in my face. Sebastian’s hand came down on mine, startling me. I looked up, and he motioned at the bag on my back.

  “It’s all I can take. I’ll have to make more trips anyway,” I said.

  He shook his head and pointed to his own back.

  “Are you sure?”

  Again, he nodded, and I helped him to position two of the packs on his back, his fingers unable to even tighten or loosen the straps.

  The trip back to the farm was uneventful, which surprised me. I thought maybe Bob would be waiting for another can of beans at the least. When we got to the back gate, Sebastian twenty feet behind, I slipped through and beckoned him in.

  “Come on. You aren’t going to hurt me. I know that,” I said.

  He shook his head and shrugged out of the bags before slipping off into the bush, as if he’d never been there.

  Maybe I trusted him, but it looked like he didn’t trust himself. That was enough to give me pause, to make me consider the fact that even though he was my husband, I’d been truly foolish to let him so close to me, no matter how much I loved him.

  If only I’d remembered that a week later, then perhaps things would have turned out differently. Perhaps I wouldn’t have had to turn my knife on him and do what no woman should have to.

  18

  For the next week, I made two to three trips a day and the routine was well set. I took three bags, my can opener and a can of beans. Bob would meet me halfway to Dan’s, and I would give him the can of beans like some offering a knight errant would give to a bridge troll. Sebastian followed me and packed a bag back so that by the end of the week we’d moved twenty-one backpacks full of food and necessities. Dan even had a good stash of drugs squirreled away: antibiotics, over the counter pain killers, and some pill forms of morphine. I took it all thinking of possible complications and pain during the labour that I would face in a few short months.

  Dan grumbled fiercely that I was taking his offer to the extreme, but when I pointed out that I’d barely made a dent in his supplies, he settled down. It didn’t hurt that on the third day I managed to bake cookies and I took some to him, though they were burnt around the edges. I was still trying to figure out the ways of baking with a wood burning cook stove. I suppose that even a grizzled old man likes homemade goodies, burnt on the edges or not.

  On the seventh day, Sebastian was more than a little edgy, his eyes darting and his mouth clicking from time to time. I’d offered him food as I always did, and he pushed it away at first, in the past few days never once taking from the stores we were collecting.

  “Eat it,” I said, the open can of peaches smelling positively delectable.

  Sebastian groaned and took the can from me, swallowing the peaches and the juice without a single gulp. I put the can into my bag. I could get rid of it at Dan’s.

  We walked up the well-worn path, gave Bob his beans, and continued on. As always, I paused at the huckleberry bush and waited. Not just to see if the coast was clear, but to let Sebastian come closer, to touch me, even if it was only for a moment.

  This time was different, though. His hands went to my belly first as always, but he slid them under the shirt, over my bare skin and up to my suddenly taut nipples. He rubbed the flat of his hand over them, unable to tease them with his fingertips, the lack of dexterity not slowing him down for a moment. I let out a low moan. This was torture of the best kind. He pulled me tight against his him and slid his body up and down mine as he rubbed my breasts, his breath hot against my neck, his teeth grazing the skin. I knew I should be afraid, at least a little bit, but the emotions rocketing through me didn’t leave room for fear. Love, desire, skin, hunger. They left me trembling and useless in the way of thinking straight.

  Sebastian nipped my earlobe and I started to reach back for him. He pushed me forward, knowing better than I did the limits of his control.

  I stumbled to the door and let myself in, nearly gasping as I tried to get my hormones and emotions under control. I banged my hand against the door, suddenly angry and embracing the heat that burned off some of the desire.

  “It’s not fair!” I whispered.

  “What’s that, woman? Not fair that you’re stealing all my food from me?” Dan asked.

  I turned and leaned against the door. “No. Just, I don’t know, everything isn’t fair. Nothing is the way it should be.”

  He grunted and helped me packed my bags, more baking supplies, chocolate chips, raisins, coconuts, walnuts, flour, and sugar. I smiled to myself. Dan surely wanted more cookies; there was no subtlety in his methods.

  I gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thanks, Dan. I’ll bring more cookies next time.”

  “Get out of here, woman,” he growled at me, waving me off as he tried to hide a smile.

  I stepped outside with the three bags and started down the slight slope to the edge of Dan’s property. I hefted one bag into place and packed the other two to the huckleberry bush where Sebastian was. Except it wasn’t Bastian waiting for me.

  It was Jessica.

  She launched herself at me, and I was barely able to step out of the way, stumbling to my knees as I slid in the grass. I dropped the bags of food and slid the bag off my back. I ripped them open and hoped the same trick would work with her as it had with Bob. Marshmallows and chocolate chips sprayed through the air, the scent of sugar drawing Jessica’s nose to the food stuff instead of to me.

  More members of the pack spilled forward, filling up Dan’s garden and forcing me to the front of the house and onto the main road. The backpacks were shredded and the baking supplies were everywhere. I kept backing away. Jessica stared at me, her hatred palatable, but the food a stronger pull than killing me, at least for the moment. I knew that as far as she was concerned, I’d stolen her man.

  A loud boom rattled the air, and the Nevermore closest to me dropped to the ground. I looked up to see Dan shooting at the pack from the top floor of his house.

  “You’d better run, woman,” he yelled. The pack swarmed through the yard, mostly focused on the food, but some were trying to get into the house, ending any chance I had at getting into safety.

  I backed up until the pack was out of sight and then I ran. Okay, jogged, but I knew that I had to move. In my belief that I was safe, and in the concern for how much weight I should carry, I’d been leaving the rifle at home. All that stood between me and the pack was one measly knife. Deep shit did not even cover the depth of trouble I was in. Two more loud booms, then nothing more. Dan was giving me a chance at least.

  I ran for fifteen minutes before I got a stitch in my side and had to slow down, but I was getting close to the halfway mark. Next up was the tunnel of broom that had nearly done me in, where we’d first met Dan and Bob.

  I pushed my way into the thick greenery and found myself face-to-face with Bob. And I had nothing to give him. Again, deep shit seemed so understated.

  “Bob,” I said. “I’ll bring you two cans next time, just please let me by.” I couldn’t back up; I didn’t dare to with the pack coming my way. Already their voices were screaming and getting closer. A Nevermore hand shot through from behind me and I spun and slashed at it with my knife, opening a deep wound. Bob roared and stood up on his hind feet, even taller than Sebastian.

  He roared again and the screaming and hollering stopped. Bob stepped forward, and I stepped to the side to let him pass. Apparently beans were the right commodity to keep him friendly to me, and I thanked my lucky stars.

  Bob shoved past me, roaring and growling, the scent of his musky coat heavy in my nose. I ran down the trail, so close to home that I could almost taste it. One hand instinctively on my belly, the other hand holding my knife. I ran, pushing through the broom and bush, no longer caring how much noise I made. The pack knew I was there. The only thing I hadn’t counted on was Sebastian.

  As I hoofed it up the street, our house in view, the gate a blessed sign that I would be safe in a matter of moments, Sebastian burst o
ut of the bushes, breathing hard and eyes wild.

  “Bastian!” I said, trying to speak while I was out of breath making his name come out as a whisper.

  He snarled, his mouth open wide, his hands clenched in fists, and he ran at me, all the animalism that the rest of the pack exhibited every day coming home to roost on him finally.

  “Please God, no,” I said, scrambling backwards, holding my knife out in front of me, my husband advancing faster than I could back up. At the last second I slashed at him, opening the skin of his chest in a scarlet red line from left to right.

  It didn’t stop him. He slammed into me, taking me to the ground as he howled, his body hard and his ferocity terrifying me. If ever I thought I had been safe with him, I knew now I had been wrong. Maybe he’d been slipping slowly, but he’d still been moving away from me, moment by moment, step by step.

  “Please don’t make me do this,” I whispered my knife arm free. Sebastian’s body pinned mine to the ground in a mockery of the intimacy we’d once shared. With my left arm, I pressed against his throat, keeping his teeth as far away from me as I could. There was no longer any trace of the man I loved left in his eyes. Tears spilled down my cheeks and I felt him pause, felt him muster something from deep inside.

  He opened his mouth, I thought at first to growl or bite.

  “Do it,” he said, his eyes softening for a brief moment as he stared at my hand holding the knife.

  I let out a cry of pain, gripped the handle with my right hand, and knew that if it were the last thing I did, I would love him forever.

  There was no time; the pack was coming and they would kill me, Sebastian along with them for the ride, if I didn’t do something—and do it fast. For me, for our child, I had to do it; I had to kill the one man I loved more than any other person in my life.

  A deep, gut-wrenching sob ripped out of me. With a last effort I raised the knife, holding it above his back, right over his heart.