Besieged by Rain (Son of Rain #1)

by Michelle Irwin

  He turned and disappeared into the room again. I caught Eth giving me an odd look, something akin to pity, before glancing away when I met his gaze.

  Lou stood there watching after Dad with her hands glued to her hips.

  “Is that it?” she shrieked after him. “If that was me, I’d have been drawn and quartered by now.”

  “Lou,” Eth said, shaking his head to stop her. He obviously knew or understood something Lou and I didn’t.

  Dad came back out and looked at me for less than a second before turning his gaze onto Lou. “I’d be harder on you because I expect better than that shit from you.”

  I gritted my teeth to stop myself from saying the “fuck you” that rose to my lips. I blew out a breath.

  “I’m going to get a drink,” I murmured.

  “I’ll come with you,” Eth said.

  I gave a noncommittal shrug as I walked away.

  “YOU’VE GOT to be smarter about these things,” Eth berated me once more. At least when he did it, I could tell it was coming from his place as my big brother, not because he wanted to pretend he was better than me somehow.

  I tried to ignore him, but the pains in my legs that were only growing worse by the second and the visions of Evie that burned behind my eyelids seemed to dance to life demanded my attention instead.

  “Why didn’t you have your gun? An athame? Something?”

  I dropped my glass onto the counter and met his concerned gaze with a steady one of my own. “Have you ever just wanted to run away from everything? Just pick a direction and run for all your worth until nothing matters anymore?”

  “Can’t say that I have.”

  I looked away from him and picked up my glass again. “Then you don’t know shit about why I wouldn’t have been carrying a weapon. I shouldn’t need to have one on me at all times.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I’m not sure I want to be part of this bullshit anymore.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You’re talking as if you have a choice. You don’t have a fucking choice. It’s who you are. It’s in your blood. Besides, I know you get off on helping people.”

  “But not at the expense of killing other people.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut. “Again with the people,” he muttered to himself. “Look, I don’t get this whole bender that you’re on. I can’t even pretend to understand it, but I’m here for you, man. If you’re not willing to kill the pretty ones, that’s fine. I’ll step in and do it for you. I’ve told you that. But you need to let us be there for you. The distance between you and Dad is breaking his heart.”

  “Yeah, he seems real fucking cut up about it.” It was the same thing Lou had said to me, and I hadn’t believed her either.

  “You know as well as I do that he’d rather stab out his eyes with hot pokers than admit to any sort of weakness, but he really is. Family is key. You know that.”

  It was the family motto, rolled out whenever they wanted to make me feel like shit. I stretched my heel behind me again, trying to shake the pain that only continued to grow. It felt like Evie’s fire from my dreams had taken hold in my feet and an inferno was raging through my veins.

  “What is it?” Eth asked. “You got ants in your pants or something? You’ve been bouncing around like some goddamn circus act all night.”

  “I’m fine.” I reached down and rubbed one of my aching calves.

  Eth narrowed his eyes at me.

  “I’m fine,” I repeated, tossing back the last of my drink. “I’m going to head to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  I could feel his eyes on me as I walked out of the bar.

  Halfway back to the motel room, my thighs ached so badly that my legs buckled beneath me. It was almost as if some curse had been placed over them, causing them to become more painful as the night wore on. At that thought, concern and understanding over what could be causing the pain dawned on me. I forced myself back up onto my feet and stumbled the rest of the way to my room.

  I grabbed my cell phone and tapped in the address of the Rain’s hidden website to log in to the information database. Considering I was in Canada, the cost would be astronomical, but Dad could worry about that shit later. Within a few minutes, my worries were confirmed.

  It seemed highly likely that I was suffering from the wendigo curse. I could certainly tick most of the boxes: my feet and legs were cramping and sore—although sore barely began to explain how much agony echoed through every step—and I’d suffered from nightmares during the time I’d nodded off. The only symptom I wasn’t yet displaying was being driven mad to the point of tearing off all of my clothes and disappearing into the night.

  If—when—I reached that point, it would likely be too late to save me from being wendigo fodder as I’d be inclined to run straight into his waiting jaw.

  I debated ignoring the signs in case I was wrong, but then Eth’s words from earlier came back to haunt me. He was right. The distance between my family and me was as much my fault as it was theirs—maybe I was even more responsible in some ways. Whenever I traveled on my own or hid things from them, I only widened the gap. I owed it to them to be honest about things like this, especially where it concerned my life. I called their room and told Dad about the pain and my diagnosis.

  Within ten minutes, Eth was standing at my door with a blanket and a pillow.

  “Looks like we get to be bunk buddies tonight,” he said.

  I looked back into the room. “There’s only one bed in here.”

  “Then you’ll have to squish up to one side, won’t you? We’re not going to leave you alone, and we’re certainly not going to go out looking for this thing in the middle of the night. You might be crazy and suicidal, but we’re not.”

  Knowing I had little choice, I relented. If nothing else, I was certain he’d use any force necessary to stop me if I started to tear off my clothes.

  WHEN I awoke the next morning, the rays of the sun peeked over the horizon. Eth was already up and dressed ready for the hunt. The outline of his gun was visible at the base of his spine even under his shirt.

  “Are you sure that phoenix didn’t have you under a spell?” he murmured, obviously hearing the groan I issued as I woke.

  My heart began to beat against my ribcage, almost distracting me from the agony of the cramping in my legs. “Why?”

  “You kept calling her name, over and over all night long.” He stood stoic at the window, the words uttered with almost no inflection. The lack of anger in them meant there was no real way for me to react other than with guilt. “If I didn’t know better, I would have guessed you were worried about her.”

  I looked away from him, hoping that if he turned toward me he’d miss the look of regret in my eyes at his words. The dreams I’d had during my nap the previous afternoon had continued throughout the night, with a nightmare version of Evie threatening me while the wendigo circled around her. When the wendigo leaped forward to attack her, I shouted a warning to her. Every. Damn. Time.

  Eth was silent as he waited for me to respond. He didn’t turn to look at me as he spoke or while he waited for an answer. Considering he was staring out the window that overlooked the motel parking lot, I knew it wasn’t the captivating view that held his attention—rather his almost certain desire to unsettle me. It was clear he was engaging in one of the oldest interrogation techniques in the book.

  I stared at him as he stood stock still, his hands resting one underneath the other behind his back. Both palms faced toward me, the V formed by his arms framing his holstered gun almost perfectly. He was as still as a statue. So still I could barely even see his chest moving as he breathed. The silence stretched onward.

  “What do you want me to say?” I asked when it became too much for me—it was the oldest technique because it usually worked. “I can’t help who I dream about.”

  “If it’s not a spell. She must have sunk her claws deep into you.”

  “I’m not going into this again,
Eth. I’ve said everything I need to about her. She’s in the past, and I’m trying to move on. I really am trying.”

  “How’s the legs?”

  “How do you think?” I snapped.

  He spun back toward me, masking his concern a second too late. It was clear he hadn’t wanted me to see it. “Well, between the nightmares and pain, I think I should probably count my lucky stars that you’re not stripping right now, shouldn’t I?”

  “I think I’ll last until we can kill the damn thing.”

  “You sure? I don’t want to take you if I’m going to have to play babysitter or watch your white as snow ass running naked around the woods.”

  “If I stay here alone, you won’t know if I reach the rip my clothes off stage,” I said. “Besides, you know if it set the curse, it’ll be waiting for me to return. I can be the bait.”

  “True, but fair warning . . . if you start stripping, I may have to shoot you just so I don’t have to see your junk flopping around. Bloodied or not, you can still be bait.”

  I wasn’t sure whether to laugh, be offended, or feel relieved that he had no concerns with using me as wendigo chowder. At least it meant he thought I must have been capable of looking after myself—either that or he was sick of having the same arguments with me over and over again.

  His cell chimed. “That’s the half hour warning.”

  I nodded, before dragging myself from the bed. The instant my feet hit the floor the pain in my legs increased a thousand fold. Every inch of my legs felt like it was simultaneously being stabbed by a thousand hypodermic needles. Eth took a step closer to me when I whimpered with pain, but I held my hand out to stop him. If I was going to be part of the offensive team, I couldn’t be whining about the pain like a child. Instead, I would have to ignore it and hope it went away when the creature finally burned. I swallowed down the cries that threatened to flow from my mouth.

  A little under an hour later, we pulled the car off the road near where I’d been confronted by the wendigo. With military precision, the four of us piled from the car, all armed with flares and fire. Once we were out of sight of the road, I moved ahead of the others to act as bait to lure the wendigo out of the depths of the forest.

  If I’d been less well trained and had less exposure to horrific and painful tortures in the past, I would have well and truly succumbed to the final stages of the wendigo curse, I pretended it had taken me in its grips. As agreed, I ripped off my hoodie and began to run. Shouting nonsense at the top of my lungs, I raced deeper into the forest. Just before they disappeared from my sight, I saw my family setting up a containment line, digging a trench and setting it alight.

  Whatever happens now, they’ll have my back. The trust I felt for them was absolute. Blood was key, after all. I just had to put my trust back in that knowledge.

  In my peripheral vision, I saw a flash of gray. I tore off my shirt and made my shouts louder.

  Goddamn it’s cold! This better work.

  I ran farther ahead. I couldn’t even hear my family anymore. A moment later, a tree crashed down beside me and the foul breath of a wendigo rushed by my cheek. I stopped and rested my hand on the flare gun tucked into a large holster inside the leg of my sweatpants—well, Eth’s sweatpants because they hung looser on my frame and hid the flare gun better.

  The wendigo crept closer to me, and I was assaulted by memories of my dreams. In front of my eyes, Evie appeared—life-sized and beautiful as ever. She smiled at me, beckoning me closer, but she stood between the Wendigo and me. It was going to attack her first.

  My knees buckled beneath me with a painful spasm, and I fell heavily onto all fours.

  “Take me instead.” I crawled forward on my hands and knees toward the wendigo, pleading with it to leave Evie alone. All thoughts of flares and fighting was gone, the sight of Evie in danger—the result of the curse taking its final, deadly effect.

  Walking with slow steps, the wendigo closed in on me. It lifted its clawed hand high and then lashed out to hit me. Already dazed, I couldn’t move to avoid the strike and it smacked against the side of my face.

  The blow was just what I needed to shake me from the waking nightmare. The wendigo leaned over me, its thin lips pulled back to reveal a row of sharp, crooked teeth. The beast’s breath tickled over my cheeks; the scent enough to force bile up my throat. It brought the world into crisper focus for a fraction of a second, long enough for me to yank the flare gun out of the holster, aim it into the gap between the wendigo’s teeth, and fire.

  When the flash of the flare cleared from my eyes, the wendigo was gone. Dad and Lou flew from the trees, their own flare guns drawn and aiming in the same direction. My gaze followed theirs, and I saw the creature. Half of its face was missing, the heat of the flare burning through the thin skin like tinder. It was a wound, but not necessarily a fatal one yet. If it stopped the fire and was given enough time, it would recover from the injury. It was imperative we destroyed it while it was injured enough for us to have a chance.

  I rolled over and pulled myself to my feet, ignoring the continued ache in my legs. The instant I was on my feet, I took off. I reloaded the flare gun while I half-ran, half-dragged my legs in the same direction that the creature had gone. Sensing that it had become the hunted, the wendigo dived from side to side to shake us from its tail. Through its broken mouth, it roared out in an agonized cry.

  Another creature, this one even larger than the first, smashed down a trail of trees and stopped in front of us. A pair of wendigos hunting in the same area. This was obviously the reason the creature had been able to evade the locals who’d tried to destroy it.

  It was rare for two wendigos to be in an area together. Rare, but it did happen from time to time. Most of the time it was when a couple chose to take up cannibalism together—when that happened, the wendigo spirit split and took them both. The whys in this case didn’t really matter though. All that mattered was that they both needed to be destroyed.

  “Clay, left. Lou, top.” Dad issued orders, coupled with hand motions, which both Lou and I followed without question or hesitation. I aimed for the wendigo on our left, the one that had been tracking me. I allowed for movement and shot the instant I’d lined it up. At precisely the same time, Lou aimed at the head of the second beast and released a flare, distracting it while Dad aimed for its heart.

  The fire from the three flares caught quickly on the tinder-like skin of both beasts and they howled in agony as their deaths came in a few fiery minutes. We’d still have to finish the cleanup, and Eth would be responsible for snuffing the containment line once he got the all clear.

  Dad turned to Lou and me. “Good job, guys,” he said with a nod.

  It was ridiculous how much relief his simple statement filled me with.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  AFTER THE WENDIGO attack, I’d stayed true to my promises to myself. I hadn’t fallen into bed with anyone since Natalie. Instead, I relieved the ever-present tension by pounding the pavement or reliving my time with Evie in the privacy of a shower.

  Ever since I’d allowed her back into my conscious thoughts in Canada, it was almost impossible to give up those memories again. They were far too precious.

  Time passed in the same fashion as ever.

  Day.

  Week.

  Month.

  Each one was meaningless, and most were filled with death. Before I knew it, my birthday was upon me once again, which meant I had to mentally prepare for the fact that it had been almost two years since I’d left Evie alone after I’d screwed up and ruined her life.

  In some ways, she’d made me a better person; in others she’d made me hate myself. She’d forced me to look at the world through eyes that saw so much gray living and breathing between the lines of black and white in the form of caring, compassionate beings like her.

  Regardless of my new view of the world, I still toed the line when it came to my duty. With Eth, it was easy. Even though he didn’t understand my new consci
ence, he tolerated it just as he’d promised he would. However, not every case was that easy.

  Over the months, I’d been forced to pair up with Lou a few times, and without fail those missions were unqualified disasters. Her zeal for death and destruction rivaled only Dad’s.

  She didn’t just kill the creatures; she inflicted maximum pain first.

  On one case, we’d stumbled onto a coven of witches. Most scattered instantly, but Lou chanced upon the Priestess in her usual fashion. Unbeknown to me, Lou had dragged a set of old irons and a scold’s bridle with her from Hell. Once Lou captured the Priestess, she’d forced the witch into the torture implements before carving warding symbols into the girl’s skin with the blade of a knife.

  “God, Lou, how could you do this?” I’d asked when I found her.

  Blood, red and bright, swelled out of the witch’s wounds and dripped onto the floor.

  “She’s evil,” Lou snarled at me. There was a weird glint in her eye that frankly terrified me. In that moment, she appeared to be more of a monster than many of the things I’d hunted over the years. The scars on her arms almost appeared to glow lightly as the knife dug into the witch’s skin.

  In contrast, the Priestess didn’t look evil. In fact, she looked downright pitiful. The fight had left her body, and instead of struggling, she convulsed in Lou’s hold. The blood from her wounds hissed and spat like acid as it struck the irons clamped around her wrists, but even that wasn’t enough to convince me she deserved the torture Lou had devised.

  Behind the iron contraption on the witch’s head and face, her mouth was forced open, her lips twisted and blistered by the iron. Her eyes were rolled into the back of her head, and a strange gurgling sound issued from her.

  I could only imagine the agony the poor wretch was in.

  “Get away from her,” I warned, pulling my gun and leveling it at Lou.

  “Whatever.” Lou rolled her eyes and tossed her knife away. “But I’m telling Dad about this.”