by Tia Louise
Pain flashes in my stomach, and I quietly step toward the door. Turning the knob without a sound, I allow myself one last look before I dip my chin and let the magic shimmer over me. I’m out the door on four paws, running at top speed back to the mansion. Outside is a Technicolor fall day. Leaves blaze in every harvest color, and the sun is bright in a clear blue sky.
Dylan’s car is in the long driveway when I make my way out of the forest and across the vast lawn. I scamper into the back door and take the stairs leading to the second floor. Once I’m in my room, I shift into human form and go to my dresser.
My old jeans, the ones I wear to work on my pottery are over my hips, and I find a long-sleeved tee. It’s loose on my body, which is exactly what I want. I have no desire to be attractive to him.
Descending the staircase, I go to my sister’s office. Instead of her usual post behind the enormous desk, she’s sitting on her leather couch. I’m astonished to see her wrapped in a thick robe, her light brown hair up in a messy bun.
“I came to say goodbye,” I say quietly, and her head snaps to where I’m standing.
“You’re here.”
“Not for long.” Looking down at my bare feet, I wonder if I need shoes where I’m going or if I’ll be transformed into a spirit. Will I be dead?
Dylan’s legs move from under her and she stands, crossing the vast office to take my arms in her hands. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you from this.”
“I only wish you’d told me.”
Her lips tighten as she thinks. “Would it have made your life better?”
It’s a legitimate question. I consider it. Then, shaking my head, I look down. “I suppose you’re right.” I hug her briefly. We’ve never been close, but at least I understand her now. “Tell Aunt Penny I said goodbye.”
“Don’t you want to tell her yourself?”
“No.” I turn and go to the door. “She’s so afraid. I don’t want her to see it happen.”
My sister nods. “She remembers the days when shadows held secrets, when they would steal babies from their cribs and girls from the woods.”
“Now they only take Quinlans.”
Walking out into the elaborate grand entrance, I go to the round table with the four chairs stationed around it. Looking above me, I study the chandelier with its thousands of crystal teardrops. My tears have oddly stopped. It’s as though my insides have resigned themselves to my fate.
Closing my eyes, I push the words across space and time. I’m ready, Hayden. Come for me now.
In an explosion of sound, the door behind me unbolts and slowly moves inward. A hinge squeaks softly. I’m surprised I never noticed it before. Turning, I see him standing outside, a tall, slim figure framed in the rectangular doorway now open. As usual, he’s dressed in a tailored black suit, and his light blonde hair is perfectly coiffed.
Today he isn’t smiling. The possessive smirk I’ve come to recognize is gone, and his pale blue eyes are fixed on me. He’s studying me intently as if scanning my brain, looking to see if I’m planning to trick him or attempt to escape.
I’m not.
A small quiver of fear moves across my stomach, but I breathe it away. First one step, then another, I force my body to move in his direction. He’s still not smiling, his lips are pressed into a grim line, and I battle with the fear now creeping up my chest.
I pause a moment at the door. Hayden watches me, waiting. The fear is in my throat now, causing it to ache. I’m sure I can’t speak, so I don’t even try. I touch the handle lightly for balance then I step across the threshold.
One more step… I’m getting closer. Two more steps… Hayden’s eyes twitch as if he’s waiting for something to change. Three more steps… I’m right in front of him. We’re so close, I can hear him breathing, slow and confident.
“You’re ready?” His voice is level.
“No. I’ll never be ready, but I’m here.”
Our eyes hold each other’s a moment then he nods, lifting an arm and putting it around me, drawing me closer to him. My body is pressed against his chest, and I’m surprised at how normal he feels. I’d expected him to be extremely cold or rigid. He’s none of those things. He feels like a man.
Lowering his face to mine, I study his features, contrasting them to my love. Where Koa’s skin is smooth, brown toffee, Hayden’s is pale cream. Instead of Koa’s full lips and square jaw, Hayden’s lips are thin, his features sharp and defined. Only one thing is the same. When Hayden pulls me against his body, I feel his strength. I won’t get away from him easily.
“Close your eyes,” he says in his elegant, clipped manner of speaking. His breath is right at my lashes, causing me to blink. “Close them.”
For a moment, I resist, staring directly into his eyes now burning with blue fire. The slightest smirk curls his lips, and I give in. He seems merely to hold me, standing there on the front steps of his house.
“Now open them,” he whispers.
When I do, my heart plunges to my stomach. The entire scene has changed. I’m standing before a large stone castle with hideous spires rising like spikes in the darkness. The air is cold like standing inside a cooler, and the sky is a pale bluish hue. Everything is slightly damp, and the colors are stone grey, purple, and black. Far off in the distance, I hear a roar like wind blowing or a cyclone spinning, and a shrill noise like a scream seems to disappear in the air.
My heart beats faster. Hayden’s arm is still tight around me. I’m still pressed against his chest, and his eyes burn into mine. He waits, studying every emotion flickering across my mind, staring as if trying to see the depths of my soul. I wait, unsure what will happen next. Just when I think he’ll never release me, he does.
His arm disappears from around me, and I have to take a step back to find my balance. A light flickers above, and I glance up at the enormity of the structure before me.
Hayden steps to the side, and with a wave of his arm he speaks. “Welcome home, my love. I hope you’re very happy here.”
Koa
I’m on my feet in panther form before my eyes have fully opened. The sensation hits me so hard, it wakes me from my dream of Mercy’s arms, her beautiful body. A quick look around the apartment, and I know she’s gone. I know what she’s done. I heard her heart cry out the moment it happened.
My door is cracked and I’m outside, running down the stairs and into the woods as fast as my panther legs will carry me. I’m moving fast, pushing my muscles to make the miles disappear.
Crossing the soft green lawn, I run straight to the house but stop when I see the front door standing open. The driveway is paved in compact pea-gravel, and my paws make a soft crunching noise as I round the circular fountain to where I can sense he stood. His evil lingers, but it’s faint, dying away on the wind.
The muscles in my legs quiver as I stalk slowly toward the door. She’s gone. My Mercy has been taken. She left before I could wake up, so I wouldn’t see her go. So I couldn’t try and stop her, so I wouldn’t fight him.
A cramp hits my insides so hard. I lift my head to the sky, and with a loud ROAR! I unleash the pain ripping through my chest.
Another roar, and I’m blind with fury. I want to rip things apart with my teeth. I want to shred them with my huge claws and make them scream with pain.
Dylan appears in the doorway, and when she sees me, she grasps the handle, pushing it almost closed, hiding behind it. I have no clothes, so I can’t shift and speak to her. Still I stand and watch her, my sides heaving with the weight of my pain.
“She said goodbye,” the woman calls through the crack in the door. “She told us all goodbye then she summoned him. He was only here a moment, and he took her.”
I’m breathing hard, every word she speaks shredding my insides.
She should be gone. The firstborn should be taken, but that’s not how the curse works. Mercy’s beautiful body, her shining blue eyes and gorgeous white smile, the warmth of her soul—all gone. Closing my eyes, I let out
another low roar. My fangs are bared, and anger rolls off me in waves.
Falling back, I turn to the woods. I’m just leaving when I hear Dylan’s voice behind me. “I’m sorry.”
Stretching out to my full eight-foot length, I run to our meadow, tracing all my steps the night I felt him. Adrenaline pulses in my veins, and I’m desperate to find anything that might lead me to her.
I was on the cliff, near the observatory when he hit me with the wave of his power. With a quiet lunge, I’m on the rock, looking deep into the woods for any signs of a fault line or shift in the earth’s surface. I don’t see anything unusual.
Through all my studies in the library I couldn’t find any record of fault lines or earthquakes in the area. Still, it has to be here. He said the ley line crossed a rift between the worlds. It’s the only thing that makes sense. I was too close to the boundary. He was either coming or going, and I startled him, causing him to lash out in self-defense.
Hopping down, I plunge deep into the forest. My large paws barely make a sound in the damp leaves. Lifting my head, I scent the air. Moldering wood, crisp maple… Someone’s burning a fire off to the west. Heading back in the direction of the university, I cut a wide path to the north to avoid being seen.
The scent of fire has me curious. It’s not cold enough for fire, and it doesn’t smell like burning leaves. Running at top speed, I reach the edge of the forest. An open field is between the point where I’m hidden in the underbrush and a series of ancient brick buildings. A lone highway cuts through the field, and patches of trees line either side. The fire is coming from behind those buildings.
It’s a risk, but I’m willing to take it. A black panther cutting across an empty field in broad daylight is just asking to be caught, but the thought of Mercy pushes me on. Running at top speed, I reach the first line of trees without incident. A car zips past on the two-lane road, no change in speed. I stay low watching as it disappears.
No other cars are coming, and the scent of fire is stronger. Turning toward the network of buildings, I run to the first one. Heavy wooden doors stand open, and a bright green vine climbs the center. Looking inside, spoiled grey tiles are broken and bits of wood are scattered across the floor. Graffiti covers the walls in bold red and blue symbols.
Continuing on toward the smell of burning, I pass another open door. Inside are two rows of pews with a wide passage down the center ending at an altar. A cross is suspended in front of a large, stained-glass window. The glass is missing and the wooden framing hangs like broken teeth in a gaping black mouth.
The scrape of a metal door closing jerks me to attention. Dropping back, I duck under what appears to be the remains of a woodshed and wait, doing my best not to make a sound.
Shuffling of feet echoes in the passage to my left. An old man moves slowly through the debris of what appears to be an abandoned church or convent.
“If I catch you, I’ll throw the full weight of the law against you!” He shouts in my direction, but I don’t move. “Damn kids have no respect for anything.”
He shuffles on a few more paces then I hear him pull up quick. Pulling back further into my hiding place I hear him inhale deeply. “Hmm,” he says in a stage whisper. “Something new in these parts.”
Leaning against the open doorway, he pulls a pipe out of his pocket and taps it on his wrist. “Only thing worse than vandals is all the damn immortals lurkin’ around here.” He lifts the pipe to eye-level and peers into the bowl. “Have to light a fire to get rid of the smell.”
He continues in my direction, and I’m pretty sure he knows I’m here. A quiet inhale tells me this guy is more than human. He’s a shifter, although I can’t tell what kind in his human form. His comment puzzles me. Shifters are not immortal, which means he can only be referencing one thing.
Cautiously, I step toward the light, peering out at the crusty old caretaker. His back is to me, but I see his muscles tense. He knows I’ve come forward, but he isn’t engaging me.
“I’ll be getting back to the fire now. Have to make the rounds of the cemetery before it gets too late. Make sure no vagrants are hanging about the place.”
I watch as he shuffles down the lane and out of sight. It’s the lucky break I need, and I take off following the tree line back to Doris’s house for clothes.
16
Digging
Koa
I’m back at what I now know is the St. Dymphna Convent. It’s been abandoned for almost eighty years, and the old man is the caretaker for the cemetery. Doris had some choice words for the guy, but I’m certain he has the answers I seek.
Walking up the lane in my human form, I’m struck by the size of the place. The main building is a massive brick structure with arched entryways and detailed scrollwork along the windows and balconies.
The old man is nowhere in sight, and I walk the overgrown pathways until I’ve reached the other side where the graveyard is located. It’s empty as well, and I move slowly among the neatly lined headstones. The statue of an angel, kneeling with a bowl on her lap, is covered in a thin layer of green fungi. Down a bit is a long slab of concrete with the statue of a woman lying on top. She appears to be weeping. It disturbs me.
“I call that one Maria.” The old man’s scratchy voice makes me spin around. “She looks like she’s crying for her lost child.”
He’s dressed in baggy brown corduroys and a long-sleeved brown plaid shirt. A vest hangs open from his skinny shoulders, and a tweed driver’s cap is on his head. The only thing distinguishing him from any regular human is his height. He’s tall as me.
“She could be crying for a lost lover,” I say, hoping to nudge him back to what he was saying earlier.
“Meh, she’s got nice round tits.” He pulls out the pipe again, lighting it this time. “She’d be able to find a new lover.”
His implication irritates me, but I continue fishing. “See many ghosts in your line of work?”
“Not as many ghosts, though the town has its fair share of the supernatural.” He blows a ring of smoke and looks up at the trees before casting his attention on me. “You here visiting relatives?”
Doris’s explanation of who I am enters my mind. “I have an aunt in town. Doris White.”
He nods. “That kid of hers got hit in the head as a child. He’s been funny ever since.”
“Jim,” I say, looking down.
“Yep.” The wind rushes through the trees and a waterfall of yellow leaves rains down around us. The man holds out his hand and catches one. “Good luck to catch a leaf.”
Glancing up, I reach out to catch one as well, but just before it hits my palm, it darts away on the wind. I reach for another, but the same sequence occurs. Pushing off the statue where I’m leaning, I step out, determined to catch one. Frustration burns in my chest.
“Not as easy as it looks,” he says as I finally get one in my hands. Holding it up I raise my eyebrows before letting it go. “Nope. You dropped your luck.”
My brow lines. “You didn’t say I was supposed to keep it.”
“Didn’t know I had to tell you everything.” He takes another pull on his pipe, and I decide to cut to the chase.
“I’m looking for something. I think you might be able to help me.”
His lips move back, and I see his teeth clenched on the pipe stem. “You’re tracking the immortal. It’s his time to resurface.”
“He took someone… I need to get her back.”
Hazel eyes cut to me. “No one comes back once they’re taken.”
“Still… there’s a rift. Somewhere near the town, there’s a way across.” He nods, and hope expands in my chest. “I hoped you could tell me where it’s located.”
“Never seen it,” he says flatly, starting his slow walk back toward the convent.
It takes me a moment to recover, but I’m right behind him. “I was pretty sure you knew how to find it earlier today.”
“Nope.” He shakes his grey head topped with that silly hat.
>
His shuffling step increases the distance between us, and the frustration grows in my chest. Hustling up behind him, I move around in front of him, stopping his progress.
“If you want money, I can get you money. I need to find the passage.”
Taking the pipe from his mouth, he squints up at me. “I mind my own business in these parts. Things pass by me, but I don’t ask questions. All I know is they’re passing.”
“Okay,” I say, nodding, trying to be encouraging. “When it passes, which way is it headed.”
“Away.” That answer elicits a low growl from me, and the man pulls up short. “What I do know is in the mythology, Aeneas and Odysseus found a passage to the underworld near a lake.”
Considering this information, I nod slowly. Nightmoon Lake is north of here. As if reading my thoughts, the old man calls back to me.
“His path was always north-south, and back again.”
“Thank you,” I say, but I don’t know that he heard me.
He’s already rounded the corner of a far building when I look up again. I don’t have time to waste. The sun is dipping low on the horizon, and I want to get to Nightmoon Lake while it’s still open for business.
Jim is unusually animated as I drive his truck the short distance to the lake. “Dude, I thought you would go with Mercy to California when she left.”
“I will,” I say, not really listening.
“But she’s gone, bro. You two have a plan or something?”
The entrance to the lake is a small guard’s hut with a big sign that says “Park Closes at Dark.” Looking up through the windshield, I calculate we’ve got about thirty minutes before we’re forced to leave.
“Yeah, we’ve got a plan.” Handing over a fiver, I drive to the large body of water, taking the slow curve that leads to the cabins along the creek. “Say, Jim, you ever heard of any unusual things happening around here? People going missing or getting lost?”