by H B Lyne
'Hello?' a voice called from upstairs. Eyes jogged up into the kitchen and Stalker followed, while the others finished putting things in order.
'Mrs Bennett?' Eyes called out. Stalker followed him out of the kitchen and saw the woman standing in the hallway, twisting the strap of her handbag in her hands. 'I hope your family is well. We're just finishing up here.'
'Where was it? The asbestos?' she asked, her eyes darting over his shoulder towards Stalker and beyond.
'In the basement,' Eyes said, his voice steady as a rock. 'We were able to remove it and replace the original walls over the cavity.'
'Oh,' she said, nodding. 'I haven't been down there in years. I'd almost forgotten it was there.'
Stalker heard footsteps behind her and turned to see Claws approaching. He caught her eye and gave a discreet nod, indicating that the woman was telling the truth.
'Well, everything is fine now,' Eyes said kindly. 'No more need to worry.'
Stalker felt the weight behind his words and from the way Mrs Bennett finally seemed to relax a little and settle her gaze directly on him, she got the impression she felt it too. A curious expression flickered over her features, a hint of a frown and then a relieved and appreciative smile. Stalker smiled and gently eased past Eyes and Mrs Bennett, and out through the door, Claws right behind her. They went to the van and waited. Weaver and Wind Talker emerged, carrying a dust sheet and a tool box. Eyes followed a moment later and they all gathered by the van.
'Everything okay?' Stalker asked Eyes. He nodded.
'Fine.' There was an uncomfortable silence. 'It's my step-father's funeral tomorrow. I wanted to ask you all to come, for the support, you know? But it could be awkward, people might ask questions.'
'You can't go alone,' Claws said, his voice full of concern. 'You're right about it not being a good idea for us all to go, but maybe just me?'
Stalker glared at Claws. If only one of them was going to go, she wanted it to be her. But maybe Claws was the best choice, he had his calming aura and she had enough of her own baggage right now. Eyes nodded and looked relieved.
'Thanks, that'd be great.'
Wind Talker gave a curt nod, then moved around the van and opened the door, a signal for them all to leave. Stalker caught Eyes' arm and he looked at her.
'I'm here for you,' she said, fixing her eyes firmly on his. 'You don't have to do anything on your own.'
'I know,' he sighed. 'Thank you. But you have your own issues to deal with. Find your own truth, Stalker, don't worry about learning everyone else's.' He gently pulled his arm free and strode to his car. Stalker reluctantly turned and climbed into the back of the van. She took out her phone and wrestled with competing desires. Part of her wanted to run and hide in Rhys's arms, but she knew that she had work to do in order to appease her ancestor. Finding her resolve, she typed a text message to Rhys.
Hi. How are you? I miss you. Something big happened. Feels like I say that every day. I wish I could come see you and tell you about it, but I have to deal with it, not hide. Can I see you in a couple of days? You could come to my place for a change. Love S x
At last she could use her real initial with him, he was one less person to lie to. It was a relief. She knew he'd be working and didn't wait for a reply. She leaned back against the side of the van and closed her eyes. The uneven rocking stopped her from falling asleep, as desperately tired as she was. They stopped at Grove Street to empty the van and change out of their overalls, then dropped the van off at the rental place. Tensions gradually seemed to ease, but Stalker was itching to get back into the garden, and she resented the easy banter between the other three as they walked back to the house.
She was the first to reach the door and burst into the house, crossed the veil and charged into the back garden. It was empty and she scanned the sky for a sign of Unchained Lightning. Thick, white clouds drifted across the sky and she stared hopelessly up at them. She felt the others cross the veil behind her and slowly turned to face them.
'What's going on?' Weaver asked, obviously concerned.
'I wanted to speak to Unchained Lightning.'
Right on cue, the elemental soared over the roof and landed with a thud in the garden.
'Where is my throne?' the fae boomed. Stalker flinched.
'We had urgent matters to attend to,' Wind Talker said, stepping forward.
'You are Alpha now,' Unchained Lightning said with a crackle.
'I am.'
'My throne is the most urgent matter you have. If you do not secure it I will revoke my patronage.'
Stalker noticed Wind Talker's face drain of colour and concealed a grin of satisfaction.
'We need more information before we move against the Sparkbloods,' Weaver said. 'But we will make acquiring it our top priority. You have our deepest apologies for being so easily distracted.'
Stalker's smile drooped. There was that word again. This was what Hands-and-Face had meant, she was distracted from the truly important things. Honouring their pack ally should be one of their most important duties, alongside protecting the humans on their territory.
'I wanted to ask you something,' she said, stepping forward and looking up into his big, blue eyes.
'Yes?'
'I once helped you realise what you were.'
'Hmm, yes?' The fae tilted his head and watched her with narrowed eyes.
'Well, I wondered if you could do the same for me. It was recently pointed out to me that I haven't been as proactive in figuring out why I'm different as I should have been. I have to believe that I am this way for a reason and if I knew that reason I might be better able to live up to your expectations.'
Unchained Lightning nodded his head slowly and let out a purr-like rumble.
'I cannot help you, all I know about you is that you are not using all of your power. There is a poor connection, preventing the rest from being accessed.'
Stalker frowned at him, confusion dizzying her. She trusted him to understand the flow of power, that was his nature, but this raised more questions when what she wanted was answers.
'Okay,' she replied hesitantly. 'Is it blocking my memories too?' The memory of Hands-and-Face bellowing at her on the beach resurfaced.
'Possibly.'
'How do I fix it?'
'An injection of conductive material.' Unchained Lightning abruptly launched himself into the air and flew away, leaving Stalker staring after him, nonplussed.
'Well that was helpful. Not.'
'We'll help you figure it out,' Weaver said. She moved into the centre of the garden and picked up a twig. She changed her right index finger into a sharp claw and scratched her left thumb with it, drawing blood. She wiped the blood onto the twig and began whistling. Stalker watched in bemusement.
A shadow fell over the garden and Stalker heard the beating of wings overhead. She looked up and saw a murder of crows circling against the white clouds. A single crow broke away from the group and flew down to greet Weaver. It landed on the outstretched twig and bobbed its head. 'Thank you for answering my call,' Weaver said. 'We need information on the Sparkblood Conglomerate. Can you help?'
The crow cawed and bobbed its head.
'We need to know about their weaknesses, how they interact with each other and others around them, what motivates them.' Wind Talker quickly rattled off the list, and the crow looked at him with its head cocked to one side. It croaked in confirmation and took flight, re-joining the murder, and swooping away with them.
'I didn't know you had an affinity with crows,' Stalker said. She was surprised and a little saddened by her own ignorance of her sister's powers, but tried not to let the latter show.
'It's a new development,' Weaver said with a shrug and crooked smile. She led them back across the veil into the human world and as they entered the kitchen, Stalker's phone began to ring. She pulled it from her pocket and saw First Strike's name on the display. There was an initial wave of disappointment, quickly followed by guilt.
'
I'd better take this upstairs,' she mumbled. She brushed past the others and ran up the stairs two at a time, answering the phone as she reached the top. 'Hi, sorry, I was on the other side. Everything alright?'
'I was going to ask you the same thing,' he said, frustration in his voice.
'Yeah, everything's fine. Why?'
'I hadn't heard from you in a while and there are rumours…' His voice stalled and Stalker felt a cold sensation run down her throat. She thought she had been careful not to reveal anything about Rhys to anyone. The thought that another pack might know anything was instantly alarming.
'What rumours?'
'That there's been a change of leadership in the Lightning Lords,' he snapped.
'Oh.' Stalker couldn't hide the relief. Her whole body loosened as she stepped into the little bedroom, and she leaned against the door as she closed it. 'Yeah, that. It was unexpected, but it'll get straightened out.' She instantly regretted her words, and drew her lower lip up between her teeth.
'Right,' First Strike said, an edge of confusion in his voice.
'How did the rumour circulate? And does everyone know?' Stalker suddenly felt paranoid.
'Oh you know, whispers on the wind.' She knew he meant that fae or demons had carried the news. She realised they could hardly prevent that sort of information exchange, they relied on it often enough themselves.
'Right,' she replied. 'Look, about us.' She drew a breath, this was going to be hard. She heard a noise from his throat at the other end of the line. 'I can't see you anymore.'
'I know,' he said with a sigh. 'I knew that was coming.'
'I'm sorry.' Stalker closed her eyes, holding back the guilt.
'It's okay, it is what it is. We had a good time, but it's hard to build a relationship with the lives we lead.' There was tension in his voice and Stalker listened carefully, unsure just how much he meant what he said.
'I hope we can still be friends,' Stalker said after a long silence. She hated the words as they left her mouth.
'Yeah,' he replied.
'I'll see you around,' she said, her cheeks aching.
'See you later.' His voice was suddenly cold and distant. He ended the call, and Stalker slowly lowered her phone from her ear, looking at it sadly. She took a deep breath. She had done the right thing and could now see Rhys with a clear conscience. She tried to dismiss the little voice that told her that First Strike had accepted it too easily, and that the tension in his voice should be a concern. He was hurt, but he'd be okay. Wouldn't he?
Chapter Twenty
Fights-Eyes-Open
He loosened his black tie and unbuttoned the neck of his shirt. His mother sat with Chloe, her eyes were red but no tears fell now. She had sobbed her way through the morning, but for the funeral itself she had remained quite stoic. Chloe had cried, but when Eyes tried to put his arm around her she shrugged it away. The house was full of people, neighbours had brought sandwiches and cakes and come to pay their respects. Eyes stood in the living room doorway, detached from it all, but with Claws at his side.
He glanced over his shoulder at Amy sitting on the stairs with her aunt. They hadn't been at the funeral, Chloe hadn't wanted Amy there.
'She's so young,' Eyes whispered. Claws followed his gaze.
'Yeah, she is.'
'She'll forget him.' A hard lump formed in his throat.
'She might not, if people talk to her often about him and show her pictures of him.'
'I'm worried that she'll remember what happened but not remember who was lost. I don't even know where to begin with making her next birthday a joyful occasion.'
'Don't worry about that,' Claws said gently. 'It's a year away. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other, one day at a time.'
Eyes looked at him, about to protest, but the look on his friend's face stopped him; it was an expression of kind resolve. Claws was right and there was no sense arguing.
'I feel like if we slipped away now, no one would miss us,' he whispered.
'Me maybe,' Claws replied. 'But not you. I know you feel rejected right now, but they do need you to be here, to be strong for them.'
Eyes nodded. His gaze drifted back to Chloe and his mother. Other people busied around them, fetching them food and drink, offering them comfort and condolences. No one approached him, they treated Chloe like the one who had lost a parent, but not him.
Gradually, the house emptied. Claws lingered, clearly reluctant to leave him.
'I'll be fine,' Eyes reassured him. 'Thank you for coming.'
'I'll touch base with you later, update you on pack business.'
'Thanks,' Eyes said with half a smile. He showed Claws to the door and watched him go. The last guests filed out after him and Eyes shut the door quietly. He found Amy curled up in his mother's lap in the living room, while Chloe and Rebecca began clearing up. He went to help them and rolled up his sleeves to wash up. A heavy silence hung over them, and the tension was crippling. Eyes focused on productivity, and tried to ignore the scathing looks that Rebecca kept throwing his way.
When the kitchen was clean, he set off back to the living room, and heard Chloe and her sister immediately start whispering behind him. He shrugged it off and continued through the house. His mother sat stroking Amy's hair, silent tears falling down her cheeks.
'Amy, sweetheart, are you tired?' He knelt down in front of her and she looked at him. She nodded and rubbed her eyes. He reached out to take her and his mother flinched, her startled eyes met his and she instantly looked apologetic. 'It's okay,' he whispered and scooped Amy into his arms. He carried her to bed and quietly got her into her pyjamas. 'Would you like a story?'
'No,' she said, her voice soft and sad. 'Stay with me?'
'Of course,' he replied. He tucked her under the blanket and lay down next to her, stroking her hair. He closed his eyes and remembered his father chasing him around the garden in summer and helping him build model aeroplanes at the dining table in this very house. He had never known Fortune when he was growing up, he had only ever had one real father and now he was gone. A tear escaped his eye but he was too tired to lift a hand to brush it away. His mind slowly went quiet.
He woke with a start, disoriented in the darkness. His phone was buzzing, and he carefully eased his arm out from under Amy's head before tugging it from his pocket. Claws' name showed on the display. He crept quickly from the room and answered as he closed the door.
'I strongly urge you to come here as soon as possible,' Claws whispered hurriedly.
'What's going on?'
'We've got a lead and Wind Talker wants to act on it now. I know the timing is terrible, but you need to show your face here. I'm sorry.'
Eyes could hear the concern in Claws' voice. He heaved a sigh and ran his hand through his hair.
'Okay. I'll be there soon.' He ended the call and looked at the display, it was nearly 11pm. The house was quiet but he could just about hear the TV downstairs. He jogged down to the living room. Chloe sat alone, a cushion in her lap, her eyes glazed over as some American sitcom replayed on the screen. 'Are you all right?'
Her head slowly turned to him, her face blank, then turned back to the TV.
'Are you going out?' she asked, her voice wavering slightly. He didn't reply. There was no way he could get out of the room without an argument. 'You're always disappearing.'
'I know,' he said quietly. 'I'm sorry.'
'I have these memories that I don't know what to do with,' she croaked. Eyes felt his heart skip a beat. He didn't want to have this conversation at all, never mind when he had been called out to join the pack. He didn't know what to say. 'A girl with a knife, that no one else remembers and a golden light shielding us from her. Then there are the monsters.' Tears poured down her pale cheeks and she twisted the corner of the cushion in her hands. 'It wasn't Knights with dogs.' Her head snapped to him and her face was cold and hard, accusing.
'No, it wasn't,' Eyes whispered. His hands were shaking.
'You
know exactly what it was, don't you?'
'Yes.'
'Were you one of the monsters?' Her voice was thick with venom. 'The one who snatched the girl from in front of us?'
Eyes flinched, his jaw trembled and he felt pressure on his heart and lungs. He struggled to breathe and thought furiously of how to answer. Chloe stood up, tossed the cushion aside and strode over to him. 'If you walk out of that door tonight, don't you ever think about coming back.'
She walked past him and stomped up the stairs. Eyes was paralysed. He watched her go and when she was out of sight his eyes went to the door.
'Arghh!' He held back the roar, containing it in his throat, as his hands curled into fists, and he punched the living room door frame, splintering the wood. He grabbed his coat and car keys, and strode from the house. He just about had enough wits about him to lock the door behind him and paused for a moment, resting his forehead against the glass. Then he turned and walked away, he had no choice.
Eyes parked his car outside 32 Grove Street and sat for a moment, gripping the wheel so tight that his knuckles turned white. He took a few deep breaths, trying to sort out the muddle of thoughts competing for his attention. He would be civil with Wind Talker and help with whatever needed doing. Chloe would sleep off some of her grief and anger, she hadn't meant what she said, it had just been a very emotional day and they could sort all of this out in the light of day. He told himself what he needed to hear.
He climbed from his car and entered the house. All was quiet and dark as he moved through to the kitchen. He crossed the veil and found the rest of the pack in the back garden. Unchained Lightning stood on one of the high walls, his wings folded neatly against his shimmering body.
Weaver sat on the soil in the middle of the garden, her hands palm up on her knees and her eyes closed, in some sort of meditative state, with crows perched on her shoulders and arms. He stared at her and blinked hard several times.
Stalker caught sight of him and moved swiftly to his side. She grabbed his hand and dragged him closer. Strange images started flickering into his mind, disorienting him. He looked down at their joined hands in alarm and looked into Stalker's eyes.