by H B Lyne
She took a sharp breath and wiped her face on her sleeve, determined to shake off these feelings enough to get out of the dojo. She grabbed her things from her locker, strapped her dha across her back, where they instantly disappeared from sight, and slammed her locker shut. She dashed from the building without saying goodnight to Ron and set off at a sprint into the chilly night. The sky was clear and stars pricked the orange-tinged sky.
It was only when she was almost in Burnside that she even realised that she wasn't heading back to Grove Street, or even her own flat. She veered west, careful not to enter the Glass Wolves' territory and headed for the city centre. The run would normally clear her head, but tonight she couldn't freerun for the pain in her arm, so she had to stick to the ground and veer around obstacles, rather than scaling them. A red mist of hate for Wind Talker and Fury seeped through every synapse, and when she skidded to a halt on Rhys's doorstep her heart was racing and her head pounding. She knocked hard on the door and pressed her forehead against the cool wood.
She heard movement inside and lifted her head. The door opened in front of her and Rhys stood back to let her in.
'I had a feeling it would be you,' he said softly. She moved past him into the living room and heard the door close softly. She turned and saw him looking at her with his dark, intense eyes, much as he had feasted on her the very first time they met. She crossed the floor quickly and grasped his face in both of her hands, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. He took hold of her and lifted her off her feet, he carried her easily to the sofa and they dropped down onto it with barely a pause in their frenzied kissing.
Stalker couldn't think straight, her feelings were so strong that they drowned out all conscious thought, and she gave herself willingly to them. She pulled off Rhys's shirt and tossed it aside, she gasped for air and felt his hot breath on her face. As they tugged and grabbed at each other's clothes, clumsily stripping one another, all of the drama seemed to fade away. Stalker had been driven into his arms by events utterly unrelated to him, but now all she knew was his smell, his hard body pressing against hers, and his full lips all over her own.
Finally, Stalker had what she had wanted since she first met him, and it was as incredible as she had imagined it would be. They seemed to know one another's bodies instinctively, and as fast and frenzied as their love making was, it wasn't clumsy. Their passion peaked, and gradually the rest of the world came back into focus. Stalker's breathing was heavy and her skin was coated in sweat as Rhys laid gentle kisses on her neck. She stroked his hair and allowed the darkness to creep back in, she couldn't fight it, she was too vulnerable. The euphoria faded and she felt her cheeks sag.
'What happened?' Rhys whispered, looking deep into her eyes. 'Or can't you tell me?'
'I shouldn't tell you, but I have to talk to someone, and I can hardly spill my guts to Ben.'
Rhys gave a snort of laughter and shook his head. He rolled carefully onto his side and lay beside her on the sofa. He pulled her close against his body and wrapped her up in his strong arms. She suddenly felt safer than she had in weeks. 'A rival from a neighbouring pack came to my class tonight to make trouble. She nearly broke my arm.' She held up her arm, which was absolutely fine now, but Rhys took hold of it and rubbed it with his soft fingers.
'That's not good. But that's not everything, is it?'
'No.' Stalker closed her eyes, she could feel tears threatening to spill again. A small one escaped and rolled down her face. Rhys kissed away the tear, and cradled her head.
'It's okay, you can tell me anything. But if you don't want to I will just hold you for as long as you need.'
A whimper escaped her lips and more tears fell. The relief was enormous.
'One of my pack mates betrayed us all. He killed someone that we needed to question and who I wanted to help. Then he challenged the Alpha and took control of the pack. I hate him. I hate him for it. I won't kneel to him. He's no Alpha of mine.'
'Fuck, that's really awful.' Rhys continued to stroke her arm but his body tensed briefly and she could hear the shock in his voice.
'I have to go back soon and tell them about what happened in my class. But I don't want to, I wish I could just stay here with you.'
'How do the rest of your pack feel about what happened with the Alpha?'
'I don't know, but I get the feeling I'm not the only one who feels like this. Claws and me tend to be on the same wavelength. My Alpha, the real Alpha, and Weaver, they're big on the rules. Weaver especially. So she'll do as she's told, she'll follow Wind Talker and Eyes will too, for now at least.' She didn't care that she was sharing names, she no longer worried about what Rhys knew. Either he was an enemy in disguise or not, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that right now he was here for her.
'Don't go,' Rhys whispered, pulling her tightly against him. 'Stay here with me tonight and make love to me again.'
And she did.
Chapter Eighteen
Fights-Eyes-Open
Eyes was almost at the hospital when his phone started to ring. He glanced at it and recognised the number of the psychiatric ward. He felt a rush of excitement that lit up his face, knowing exactly why they would be calling, but ignored the call as he was driving. He parked his car in a drop-off space, not caring if he got a ticket. He ran into the hospital and up to the ward, taking the stairs two at a time. His pulse raced furiously and peopled stared at him as he brushed past them. In record time, he skidded to a halt at the locked door of the ward. He pressed the buzzer and tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for an answer. The voice of the duty nurse echoed in the empty corridor.
'Hello, can I help?'
'It's Martin Davison,' he said sharply and the door was buzzed open for him without another word. He threw it open and ran towards Chloe's room. The duty nurse met him halfway down the brightly lit corridor and held up her hands to halt him.
'Mr Davison,' she said firmly. He brushed past her and burst into Chloe's room. She was sitting up in bed, her face red and blotchy from crying, her wrists restrained to the bars on the sides of her bed.
'What's this?' he shouted. 'Get those things off her.'
Her eyes met his and they were terrified. The hope and joy he had allowed himself to feel on the way here evaporated.
'Martin?' Chloe's voice croaked and he moved quickly to her side. 'What's going on? Why am I here?'
'You were in a bad way, we didn't know what else to do. But it seems like you're feeling better.' He stroked her hair gently as he spoke and pressed his lips to her forehead. 'Take these restraints off now, she's not a danger to anyone.' He looked imploringly at the nurse and she gave a brief nod before moving over to undo the straps.
'What happened at the house? Where's Amy?' Chloe asked, her voice shaking. Eyes cupped her cheeks and looked into her eyes.
'Amy's fine, she's with my mum and Rebecca. I'm going to get you to them as soon as possible. We'll talk about the house later, it doesn't matter right now. All that matters is that we're okay.'
Chloe's eyes searched his and her lip trembled. She was scared of him. Eyes felt a lump rise in his throat as the reality struck. Chloe may not be afflicted with madness, but she was far from whole. He held her, pressing her head against his chest.
It seemed like hours before the consultant came to check on her.
'I think we should keep you here overnight, Mrs Davison, just to make sure you're all right.' The doctor was well-meaning and kind, but she had no idea what she was dealing with and Eyes shook his head firmly.
'No, we're going home. You can discharge yourself,' he reminded Chloe. 'I know Amy really misses you, and so do I. Let's go home.' He needed her to agree, he was desperate. He needed to get her away from the hospital and back in familiar surroundings. He couldn't actually take her to their home, but he thought it best not to mention that just yet.
Chloe nodded slowly and looked from Eyes to the doctor.
'I want to go home.'
'Okay,' the doctor
said, obviously a little disappointed. 'You haven't been sectioned, so I can discharge you into the care of your family. I'll get the paperwork and the nurse will take your IV out.' She nodded at the nurse, who immediately did as she was told.
Eyes waited while everything was done, he couldn't bear to let go of Chloe's hand, but she didn't squeeze his back and hardly looked at him. The nurse left and returned later with a bag of Chloe's things that she was wearing when she was brought in.
'Do you want me to help you change?' he asked softly. Chloe shook her head.
'Can you give me a minute?' she asked, not meeting his eyes.
'Of course,' he replied. He left the room, a heavy weight on his shoulders. He stood outside and kept a watchful eye on her through the window in the door. She dressed slowly, looking at each item of clothing carefully before putting it on. Eyes couldn't raise a smile, he had been through hell to heal her, but now he had so much more work to do to fix things between them. He doubted a fae could help with that. There were no short cuts, nor should there be, he knew that.
Finally they were ready to leave and he took her arm to lead her to the car. There was a parking ticket wedged under his wiper and he pocketed it before settling Chloe into the front passenger seat. She had a glazed expression on her face the entire drive across the city to Eyes' mother's house in the north of St. Mark's. It was nearly dark as he helped her up the driveway and into the house.
'I can't believe it!' Rebecca called as she met them in the hall. She pulled her sister into a tight embrace, leaving Eyes to close the door. He watched as Chloe sank into Rebecca's arms, giving herself to the warmth of her family in a way she hadn't done with him. He was a mere spectator as Chloe was reunited with the others. Amy was delirious with joy and even his own mother greeted his wife as if she were her own daughter. His mother had been withdrawn and a shadow of her former self since the attack, she had lost her husband and was obviously traumatised by it all, but she hadn't asked a single question, so he had avoided confronting the truth with her. He had dodged Rebecca's inquisition, feeding her the same lies that he had told the police. She obviously didn't believe it, but he refused to be drawn into an argument.
They ate dinner together, though hardly anyone spoke. Chloe stared at her food and idly moved it around her plate with her fork, not eating more than a couple of small bites.
Rebecca took Chloe to the bathroom to wash and get ready for bed and Eyes was tasked with doing the same for Amy.
'Thank you for bringing Mummy home,' she said softly as he brushed her curly hair.
'That's all right, munchkin. I wanted her home too.'
'When are we going home home?'
Eyes sighed.
'I think we'll probably find a new home. Would that be okay with you?'
'Yes.' She nodded and smiled at him. It was the happiest he had seen her in days. A glimmer of hope stirred that perhaps he might get some of his family back.
Once Amy was asleep he tip-toed into the adjoining room that he had been nominally sleeping in, not that he had been here much. Chloe was lying in the bed and he curled up next to her, pulling her against his body.
'I love you,' he whispered. She shuffled away from him and stifled a sob.
'I don't even know you anymore.' Her voice was little more than a hoarse whimper.
Eyes rolled onto his back and stared hard at the ceiling, hurt, rejected and drowning in guilt.
Chapter Nineteen
Stalker-of-Night's-Shadow
It was mid-morning when Stalker quietly entered 32 Grove Street, her chest felt tight and she tugged at the neck of her top, as if that would help ease her breathing. She heard voices in the kitchen and made her way up the dark hall to join the others. Eyes wasn't there, but the others were talking quietly and looking over the map that she and Claws had got from the library. Stalker stood in the doorway, hugging her arms across her chest.
'Hey there stranger,' Claws said, without looking up. 'Everything all right?'
'So-so,' she replied and moved into the room.
'Heard any more weird stuff?' Weaver asked, not quite meeting Stalker's eyes. Suddenly she had the feeling they had been talking about her.
'No,' she replied slowly. 'But I would like to try and understand what that was.'
'It was a very heightened situation,' Wind Talker said, his eyes resolutely on the map, his voice emphatically innocent.
'I was not imagining it!' Stalker snapped. 'Frankly, it's insulting that any of you would insinuate such a thing.'
She turned and stormed into the living room. She went to the window and looked out onto the street while she took some deep breaths. She felt someone enter the room behind her and closed her eyes, hoping not to hear Wind Talker's patronising voice.
'I know you didn't imagine it.' It was Weaver and Stalker felt her shoulders relax. 'I think we should investigate, I mean, after all the warnings from the Storm Riders, we can't ignore something like this.'
'Back to the beach then?' Stalker asked as she turned to face Weaver. 'See if it happens again?'
'Sure. I'll call Eyes, see where he is.' Weaver left the room as she pulled out her phone and lifted it to her ear. Stalker wiped her clammy palms on her jeans and walked back to the kitchen. Wind Talker glanced up at her, an odd look on his face.
'Sorry,' he mumbled.
'It's okay,' she replied, not really meaning it, but she wanted to get on with everything they had to do and couldn't stand another argument. 'Fury turned up at my dojo last night. Apparently fear demons are spilling out of our territory and causing them problems.'
Wind Talker nodded solemnly.
'That's understandable, given the arrival of The-Knight-of-Shadowed-Fear. We'll let the border incursion go, this time, and see to the fear demons in due course.'
Stalker nodded in agreement. She didn't like the idea of letting Fury get away with her actions, but she wasn't going to debate it with Wind Talker now.
'Chloe's not doing so great,' Weaver said from the doorway. 'Eyes needs to stay with his family today.'
Wind Talker clucked his tongue and stood up, his chair legs scraping across the linoleum. Stalker watched him warily, waiting for more. He slammed his coffee mug down on the table and brushed past her and Weaver as he strode to the door.
'Come on then,' he snapped. 'Let's get back to the beach and find out what the fuck is going on.'
Stalker exchanged trouble glances with Weaver and Claws, before the three of them filed down the hall and out of the house after him. They had the van until the following day, so Wind Talker drove and the other three sat in awkward silence in the back. Stalker couldn't shake the memory of Hidden Voice lying on the floor of the van, unconscious and unknowingly riding to his death. A cold, hard lump formed in her throat as she stared at the floor.
Twenty minutes later, the van ground to a halt on the soft sand track down to the beach and the Lightning Lords climbed out of it. As Stalker climbed around the van, careful not to slide down the sand bank, she looked down to see Hidden Voice's funeral pyre disintegrated and scattered around the beach. The tide was very low, the beach smooth and stretching out away from the dark cliffs to her left. Something caught her eye though, marks in the sand. She scurried down the bank and heard the others following her. She ran to where the pyre had stood and stooped to examine the sand.
'Tracks,' she said, calling over her shoulder to the others. They gathered around her.
'Has the body been washed out to sea?' Weaver asked, anxiety evident in the tremble in her voice.
Claws followed the tracks towards the cliffs and Stalker ran along beside him. The wind whipped her hair around her face and gulls cried as they circled overhead.
'These footprints are too deep, too erratic. Whoever it was, they were carrying something heavy.' Claws rubbed his face and stared up at the cliffs. The footprints were just visible for a few paces once their owner had climbed onto the rocks but once the sand had been stomped off the shoes, there was nothing that
Claws could track. 'I'm good, but not that good,' he said sheepishly.
'Hey, don't worry about it,' Stalker said, patting his shoulder. She glanced around to make sure they were alone and on seeing the deserted beach, shifted into the form of a bloodhound. She sniffed carefully around the tracks and the wet rocks. All she could smell was the salt of the sea and sand, and the faintest trace of the corpse that had been carried away, tinged with smoke and firewood. She shifted form again, heaved a sigh and shrugged. 'Nothing.'
They headed back to Wind Talker and Weaver, and Stalker shook her head as they drew level. 'Looks like someone took the body.'
'Shit.' Wind Talker kicked a piece of charred wood and it skidded across the damp sand.
'Maybe it was Father Ash?' Weaver suggested, hopefully.
'Maybe,' Claws nodded. 'I'd guess it was a man, from the size of the footprints.'
'I don't see that there is anything we can do about it now,' Wind Talker said shortly. 'Do you hear anything unusual?' He looked pointedly at Stalker and she shook her head. She looked around, suddenly remembering the raven that had been watching them. There was no sign of it now.
'Can I borrow your knife?' she asked Wind Talker. He opened his bag and passed it to her. 'Thanks.' She held out her hand and pressed the blade to her thumb. She had once summoned a raven to carry a message to Ragged Edge, maybe it would work again. Ravens were Odin's messengers, his eyes in the world of humanity and they were bound to his Berserkers. She held her bleeding thumb up and felt the salt spray from the sea sting as it made contact with the cut. She searched the grey sky but saw nothing. Suddenly, the gulls cried and swept away, heading for the cliff top and flying inland. Stalker spun to face out to sea, something moved a short distance down the beach, a shape formed in the sand.
'What is that?' Claws asked, taking a few steps towards it.