Sometimes I catch Aaron looking at me like I’ve changed.
He’s right. I have.
But unlike him, I haven’t changed for the better.
What I did…to myself?
I never imagined I’d be capable of such a thing. But at the time, with the guilt and anger eating me and seeing Aaron’s justifiable rage…I just took it all in. All the hurt and pain. And it was too much.
It pushed me beyond myself.
Destroyed me.
We have ideas about who we are. We try to live up to that image. But we never really know until we’re tested. I’m not who I believed I was. I’m not as strong. I need…help. My bloodmate. Trish. Even the Pureblood pack. I need them all.
I can’t do this alone.
I rub my left forearm with my right hand. The cuts are healed but still tender. I remember how it felt to rake my claws through my flesh.
The hair rises on my nape.
It felt…right.
That’s the scariest part. It felt like an answer to a question that’s been tearing me up: what can I do with all this suffering?
Bleed it out.
Watch it flow onto the ground.
I wasn’t hysterical or mad with grief. No. I was perfectly rational. I had to let the hurt out…or I was going to murder myself. The cutting…was a kind of therapy.
I squeeze Aaron’s hand.
He’s…stronger. More assured in his role. Sure, he still jokes about being a shit alpha. But only a person confident in what they are could joke about something so important.
I see it in his crew as well. How they look at him. With newfound respect. I don’t know if he did something to earn it or if they just sense something’s different in him, but I find myself hoping Mia’s all right, and that she and Aaron meet one another again when I’m gone.
She deserves to see him like this.
To know who he’s become.
We pass carefully through the vulture flock until we reach the psych hospital’s outer gate, a chain-link fence crowned with razor wire. So many birds surround us I can hardly see the ground. It feels like we’re adrift in a deathly black ocean.
The gate’s unlocked.
“Something wants us inside,” Aaron says, pushing the gate wide open and scattering a few vultures. “Fucking filthy things,” he mutters.
“Shh,” I say, without knowing why.
I guess because the silence feels…sacred somehow.
Like that hush you feel entering an ancient cathedral.
Like words can only defile.
We enter the hospital grounds. The main building is an old Eighteenth Century stone and brick behemoth that sits squat and ugly on top of a small knoll. The windows are mostly broken out. I see a few blackened and spray painted walls inside.
“It’s been looted,” I say as we walk up the wide stone entry steps.
“Probably from within,” Aaron says. “Imagine the shit storm when the guards didn’t show up for work. Or the cooks.” He flashes me a wicked grin. “The moon rising red probably didn’t help with these folks’ mental stability.”
“I don’t think it helped anyone’s.”
I’m not paying enough attention to where I’m going. My foot catches on the top step and I stumble forward. Several vultures hurry out of my way, but my leg brushes against one. Searing cold seeps into my bones, stealing the breath from my lungs.
“Lil? You all right?”
I put a hand over the side of my leg.
The skin under my jeans is frigid and hard.
Frozen.
“I’m fine,” I say, thinking about what would happen if the birds turned on us. “Just don’t touch them.”
“I was aching to give one a hug.”
Aaron pauses on the landing in front of a double set of heavy, elaborately sculpted wooden doors. At first glance the carving on the doors looks like a floral design, a twisting motif of flowers and stems and trees.
But when I look again I see faces.
Hundreds of carved faces, animal and human merged together, peering out at me.
“If you were’t insane when you arrived in this hellhole you sure as shit were when you left,” Aaron says, looking at the sculpted doors. Then he turns to me and says, “You certain about this, Lil? He’s probably long gone.”
My father or the boy in the window? I almost ask, but instead I push past Aaron and fling the doors open.
It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust. There’s a grand entry foyer. A sweeping marble staircase. A hallway leading left to what I can only imagine were the manager’s offices. A wider hallway leading straight ahead, deeper into the building and toward the newer cinderblock compounds out back that once housed the patients.
Like my father.
The vultures are even inside. Covering every inch of space. Packed tight down the hall. Perched on the staircase bannister, their yellow talons digging into polished hardwood.
“Jesus fucking fuck,” Aaron breathes.
Then I hear it. A child’s laughter.
Small and quiet. But unmistakeable.
“Did you—”
“What?” Aaron says, raising an eyebrow.
“Did you hear that?”
“No. What?”
He’s irritated at himself for not hearing.
But he wasn’t meant to.
The boy’s laughter is only for me.
“Nothing. Nevermind.”
Aaron looses a frustrated breath, and when he turns around, lifts a hand and flashes a thumbs-up to Nash and the crew I see his wolf’s claws have dropped.
I can’t say I’m unhappy about that.
I step inside the building slowly, half expecting the doors to slam closed behind me.
But they don’t. Aaron steps in after me.
My father’s not even here, I tell myself.
He’s long gone. Fled like the others.
But I don’t believe it.
We make out way down the dark hall, toward the back exit doors. The vultures shuffle out of our way, then turn and glare at us. The walls are smashed in, spilling plaster and brick across the floor. Papers and bits of torn clothing are scattered everywhere and occasionally we step over a bloated body swelling around a uniform.
I scarcely notice the dead anymore.
There’s worse things to worry about.
“Why aren’t they feeding?” I ask, gesturing at the carrion birds.
“They have an appetite for stronger hearts,” Aaron says.
We reach the exit doors. They’re industrial steel with thick, wire-mesh windows. I peer outside. Inspect a few of the drab, single story cinderblock buildings.
Something catches my eye.
It’s in front of the largest building. The building’s doors are open, and inside there are several hardwood basketball courts. A gymnasium. But that’s not what I’m staring at.
Something’s been painted on the ground in front of the gymnasium.
A symbol.
Vultures surround the painted symbol, carefully staying off, as if they’re forbidden to walk on it.
“It’s a pyramid,” I whisper. “Painted in red.”
Aaron looks out and shakes his head. “Fucking Skin nutjobs. The crazier you get the more symbols you need.”
“Maybe. But it looks familiar.”
Aaron gives me a long stare, then says, “Yeah. A pyramid with the junctures marked by three…what are those? Disks? Circles?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Remember the Guardians of the Gate? They gave Shiori a tattoo on her wrist just like the one out there. Maybe the pyramid straddles worlds.”
“What worlds? Fuck sakes. As if there’s not enough shit to deal with in this one. It’s like wanting more than one wife.”
“Professor Melchuk needs to see this symbol,” I say, very quietly. “But maybe the three-disk pyramid…is a kind of gate? Between death and life and—”
Then I know. The Bloodless Land.
Opiyelguabiran. The Dog Go
d who stole my unborn child. Who’s kept Vuk imprisoned for eons, and who promised to release him—
“Aaron…this is…we should leave. Now. It’s not safe.”
“You figure? Fuck sakes, Lil. I thought we were going for ice cream.”
“No. I’m serious. We should—”
The child’s laughter starts again. Louder this time.
Nearly so loud I have to clamp my hands over my ears.
But only I can hear it.
Aaron watches me, concern widening his eyes, then says, “What is it, Lil? What do you hear?”
“I’m not sure,” I lie. “But I think…it’s coming from inside that gym.”
“Good. Then that’s where we go.”
Aaron strides outside, scattering the vultures, and judging by the tense way his shoulders are set and the fangs dropping from his mouth I know there’s no use trying to talk him into fleeing.
The Pureblood alpha challenged my brother Vuk to a blood match.
Aaron’s desperate for it.
Live or die. He wants that fight.
The child’s cruel laughter echoes in my ears.
***
I rush past Aaron and the vultures and the painted disk pyramid toward the gymnasium and the sound of the child’s laughing. Aaron tries to grab me as I run but I’m too quick, fueled by terror and guilt and heartbreak.
The lights are out in the gymnasium.
There are no vultures inside.
The laughter stops as soon as I enter.
The entire gymnasium is filled with a giant pyramid of stripped poles like the one we found in the forest clearing when Shiori joined the Fallen. This one is even larger. There must be a thousand poles strapped together, pressing right to the outer edges of the gym.
A long breath slips between my teeth.
“What the fuck is that?” Aaron asks. “Lil? You seen it before?”
“It’s his,” I say. “The Fallen’s.”
There’s a naked man hanging by his ankles in the middle of the pyramid. His body is stained in blood and horribly mutilated.
Cut up and half consumed.
My heartbeat throbs in my ears, and a scream builds in my throat.
The dead man is my father.
I know it without seeing his face.
Wil Thompson.
“Daddy?” I whisper as I shuffle toward the hideous pyramid. “Daddy are you all right? Please? Are you okay?”
It’s an idiot thing to say. But my voice sounds very young, and for a moment, as I stare at my father’s corpse, I feel like a little girl. He wasn’t a perfect father. Fuck it. He wasn’t even a good father. Too interested in the bottle. Gone too much. But he was my father, and I loved him in the boundless way little girls love their daddies before they grow up and realize they’re as fucked up as the rest of us.
Aaron’s behind me. His breathing’s slow and deep and controlled, unlike mine, which is shallow, almost panicked, and never have I been more grateful for my wolf bloodmate at my side.
“Help me,” I say, my voice cracking as I enter the pyramid. “Help me cut him down.”
Aaron hands me a knife and lifts me, and when I cut the rope tied to my father’s ankles and he plummets Aaron catches him in the crook of his arm and lowers us both gently to the floor.
“Daddy,” I whisper, kneeling beside my father. “I’m sorry. I wish I could have—”
A hand reaches up and grips my forearm.
I scream and leap away.
My father’s eyes flutter open. He draws a raspy breath, stares at me wildly, then closes his eyes again.
“Daddy?” I say, wanting to hold him but too frightened.
“Lily…”
My father’s voice. Pained and weak. But he’s alive.
“Get Trish and the medical supplies!” I shriek at Aaron.
“Lily…no. I’m not going to…” my father whispers.
I lean in close. “Yes, Daddy? I’m here. I’m listening.”
“I’m not…going to make it. Don’t send…the wolf away. He’s coming. You need…the wolf at your side.”
“Who’s coming?” Aaron says.
My father doesn’t answer.
I hold my father’s cheeks in my hands and press my forehead to his. “You’ll make it, Daddy. You have to. Understand? You have to.”
My father opens his eyes. A smile flickers on his lips. “You always were…stubborn.”
Something catches in my father’s throat and he begins coughing, a horrible bone-wracking cough that makes him writhe in pain. When he’s finished coughing he reaches up and squeezes my hand. His skin is clammy and cold. “Don’t leave me,” he says. “When he comes? Don’t leave me to him…”
“Of course not. Never. I’ll never leave you—”
“I saw him,” my father says, his eyes burning bright. “He came back. Walked into my cell like he belonged there. That smile. So vain. The arrogant asshole. He put me in this prison. Used to…visit me. Watch me through the observation glass while I raged and the doctors came rushing in with their straps and needles…”
My father’s voice fades. He’s weakening. I don’t know if he’s delirious, but I say, “I’m sorry, Daddy. For not believing you? All these years? About the—”
“Animals inside,” my father finishes. “I would’ve worried if you had…believed me.”
I smile and say nothing.
Aaron’s hovering behind us, keeping an eye out.
“He used to show me pictures of you together,” my father says. “Used to press the pictures to the observation glass. To torture me. I tried not to look…but I always did. I had to. Pictures of you and him in that glass mansion by the ocean. On his yacht. Both of you smiling. And it broke me. It just broke me, because of what he did…”
My blood chills.
I stare at Aaron, the anger and hatred I felt when I burned him returning as I realize what my father’s talking about. “Who, Daddy? Who came to see you? Because of what who did?”
“To your mother. Tore her open. Made me watch. I saw…I saw it all. The white wolf…with the patch of brown on his back…”
Aaron stifles an enraged howl.
My mind empties. It can’t be.
The white wolf? My mother’s murderer? The Stricken—
“Connor Lerrick,” my father whispers. “He did this to us. From the beginning. You were a child! He…ended our lives forever. Brought this suffering…on the world.”
I can’t control her.
My creature springs from me.
My jowls thicken and my fangs drop and my claws dig into my father’s side and I raise my head and loose a long bloodcurdling howl. Heat explodes from my mouth, igniting the pole pyramid overhead—
Connor Lerrick murdered my mother.
Lied and said it was my bloodmate.
Turned me against the one man—
A wave of loathing slams into me. I remember being with Connor, fucking him, holding him…only a couple weeks ago. The goofy hobbies. The aimlessness. It was all a lie. He used me to murder his father. I remember unleashing my animal to kill Aaron. An awful taste rises in the back of my throat.
The fucking bastard.
I lean to the side and retch bitter fluid until my chest aches.
It was Connor. All along.
It was him.
The burning pyramid sends blue-grey smoke curling into the air, bringing the crisp, pungent odor of conifers. Flames flicker and leap up the poles—
“Lily, my daughter,” my father whispers, reaching up to touch my wolf-jaws. “You’re a beautiful woman. Just like your mother. So pretty and…strong. You have so much to offer…”
“Tell me,” I plead. “Tell me who she was.”
“She was like you,” my father says. “Generous. Willful. I saw her true form. But that’s all. I was never blessed…like you both…”
“She was a Pureblood,” Aaron says.
My father nods.
“But why?” I ask. “Why did Con
nor murder her?”
Then I know.
My brother Vuk commanded Connor to murder my mother.
“Connor’s been at the Fallen’s side all along,” I say, turning to meet Aaron’s eyes. “He murdered my mother on the Fallen’s command. Had me murder August lerrick because August wanted to prevent the Fallen from Becoming.”
Aaron nods. He doesn’t seem as shocked as me, and I wonder if there’s something—
A red-hot ember falls from the burning pyramid.
Lands on my hand. Burns into my skin.
Fire and flame.
I want the whole fucking world to burn.
My creature rakes her claws into my flesh. She wants the world to burn. Wants to breathe smoke and ash. Wants to hear the guilty scream.
Vengeance. Retribution. Death.
“Daddy? Who did this to you? Was it Connor? Did he do this?”
My father shakes his head. Tries to speak. No words come.
His breathing slows.
“Daddy?”
My father looks at me one last time. Squeezes my hand.
His eyes turn dull and he leaves forever.
Aaron holds my shoulders while I sob and press my face to my father’s forehead. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m sorry I didn’t listen…”
The pyramid’s burning so hot it ignites the hardwood floor under us.
“Lil,” Aaron says. “We gotta go. C’mon. We can bring him—”
Something latches onto my forearm, digging into my freshly healed scars and making me shriek in pain.
“What is it?” Aaron yells.
I look up. My father’s eyes are open.
They’re jet black, and as I watch, too horrified to scream, the blackness spreads from his eyes and through the veins on his face—
My father’s gripping my arm.
But not my father. He’s dead. I watched him go.
Something else is inside him—
A burning pole smashes to the the floor a few feet away, showering us with sparks.
I scent the First Fallen. Like smoke and ash.
Like the time I was taken—
My sister—
The words in my mind.
You should have answered my summons—
“Fuck you, you fucking asshole!” I shriek, trying to tear my arm from my dead father’s grasp.
“Lil lets go!” Aaron yells.
The One We Answer To: A Shifter MC Novel (Pureblood Predator MC Book 3) Page 35