by Lish McBride
Nick stood with them, his face toward me, his eyes closed. He was struggling to keep the circle up. All that magic inside, all those things trying to break in. Couldn’t have been easy. The gnomes, Haley, and Frank were surrounding him, protecting him. Frank looked like he was about to wet his pants.
Brooke stood with Frank, a determined expression on her face. Only Taco, who was now chewing happily on the remnants of the jade egg, looked pleased.
The pack was a mess. It was like a bar brawl without the bar. Some were changing in the grass, others were shouting or trying desperately not to change. Fists were flying, and as I watched, someone was thrown into the side of the dome.
Then James’s face caught my eye. Mostly because you usually had no idea what he was feeling. He was master of the blank face. Not this time. His hands were clenching and unclenching like he wanted to do something, but couldn’t, and his face was completely conflicted. He looked like a lost little boy.
I hadn’t known James for long, but in that time, I’d never seen him at a loss. He always knew what to do. His pained face swiveled back and forth between Douglas and me, and for the first time, I understood exactly what was going on in James’s head.
When Haley and I were kids, we’d done some dogsitting for one of my mom’s friends. The dog, an amiable golden retriever named Wallaby, had caused some friction between my sister and me because we were both convinced that we were Wallaby’s favorite. After arguing off and on for days, we’d both gone to opposite sides of the room and called the dog to see who he’d go to. We needed an answer. That was my first lesson in the folly of making someone—whether animal or human—choose between you and somebody else. It never seems to play out the way you hoped. After a few minutes of us calling and offering treats, Wallaby hadn’t budged. His head swiveled between us, unsure what was going on, but enjoying the attention. Finally he got tired of the game and went bounding off after a squirrel that happened to scuttle past. The squirrel hadn’t been playing, but he’d won the game.
That’s what happens when you force someone to choose. Maybe they pick option A, maybe they pick option B, but most will go for a third option that isn’t asking them to pick favorites in the first place.
James reminded me of Wallaby just then. Torn between two sides of his life. I might hate Douglas with a fiery passion, but James … well, an image of that serious child by Douglas’s side came to mind. I didn’t really know where James was before, but he’d been pretty young when Douglas got ahold of him, of that I was certain. And when you’re little, parents are almost godlike. Even if you end up with a mom, dad, or guardian straight out of a dysfunctional pantheon, you’ll stick by them, because they are your whole world. They’re all you know, and the idea of having empty space where they used to be, of having that horrible vacuum in your life, is unthinkable. Like it or not, for James, Douglas was family.
I looked over at Douglas, who was on his knees at the other side of the circle. He was sweating profusely and obviously out of it. I was pretty sure I could end it now. He certainly looked corporeal now—the beads of sweat and dazed look gave evidence of that—but then again, he’d appeared corporeal before. Still, in his state, he probably wouldn’t even know what hit him. A few steps and a jab from my athame, and maybe this would all be over. Except for the nightmares and the self-recrimination I’d gain from killing someone who couldn’t fight back.
I glanced at James, and I could see he understood. The panicked look of fear might have been comical if it hadn’t been so damn sad. He said something then, and though I couldn’t hear him, I knew exactly what it was. Sam, please. Please.
Not Master. Sam. Come to think of it, he’d been dropping the “Master” a lot lately. Maybe that was because he felt his real master was Douglas, but I didn’t think so. And maybe I was a fool, but I wanted to believe—I needed to believe—that James had started to see us all as friends. As family.
Family. I knew then, with a strange certainty, that it was James who’d threatened Haley. James had put that knife in Haley’s door. Douglas would’ve killed her, but James wouldn’t. I remembered what he’d said to my mom about the wards—that they’d been set for someone who wanted to do harm. Whatever his orders had been, he hadn’t wanted to hurt Haley. When I’d sent him to check their security, he’d mentioned the fireplace—easy access for a schnauzer-sized dragon—and had my mom change them so even he couldn’t get in again. Maybe he’d been lying to everyone, and perhaps his alliances weren’t set, but despite everything that had happened, I was absolutely dead certain that I hadn’t been wrong about James. I hadn’t made a mistake.
I thought about what Bridget had said to me. Change the rules.
I waggled the athame at James, then stabbed it into the ground all the way up to the hilt. The look on his face now was priceless. I winked at him. Then I walked over to Douglas.
Ashley was screaming now, shouting something, probably what on earth was I doing, but I ignored her. Minutes passed. The yelling and pounding continued, I’m sure, but I stopped hearing it. And slowly, Douglas came back to himself.
He looked up at me. I’d never seen Douglas look bewildered. Strike that—I’d never seen him look even vaguely human. But as he glanced around, quickly assessing everything, that’s how he appeared. Confused and very, very human. Especially when his eyes, those cold, creepy brown eyes, settled on me.
He moved like a viper, and suddenly, I was held up against the side of the dome, Douglas’s hand around my throat, the sweat on his forehead visible while I felt him slowly squeeze.
“I don’t understand,” he said, slamming me against the dome. “I don’t like things I don’t understand.” He threw me onto the ground, disgusted.
“Few people do,” I choked.
“You could have killed me.”
It was a statement, not a question, but I answered it anyway. “Yes.”
He digested that. It simply did not compute for him. “I don’t understand,” he said again.
“I don’t want to play. You want to try and kill me? Fine. Go ahead. But I refuse to make murder my first answer for things. I’m tired of watching people die. You want to rumble, we’ll rumble, but I’m not going to slit the throat of an unconscious man. Especially not in front of the only family he has.”
Douglas looked surprised, and I’m not sure what astounded him more, my desire to not stab things or my reference to family.
“Look at James, Douglas. Really look at him. That is the only soul on earth who gives a rat’s ass whether you die or not. He’s the only one who cares about you. I want you to see what you’re doing to him.” I wasn’t counting Minion in the list of people who’d care. He was sitting happily munching the grass outside the dome, completely unaware of what was going on. He could have been at a soccer match or on the moon, and it wouldn’t have made any difference.
Douglas grew angry then, his face contorting under the weight of his rage. “Don’t you dare try to act like you understand what we’ve been through together or what James might think. You couldn’t possibly fathom it. He’s been with me longer than you’ve been alive.”
I looked at the sad state he was in, still furious, even now. “There’s a lot of shit going on that I don’t get, but family I understand.” Douglas continued his fuming, not grasping what I was saying. “And I think James also understands it—or is beginning to. You didn’t order him to scare Haley, did you? Doesn’t seem your style. No, she was going to be another one of your ‘messages’ to me. Why didn’t he follow through, Douglas? Did you ask him?”
He swayed on his feet, his sweat dripping, and I felt pity. I couldn’t help it. It was who I was, and I refused to let Douglas change that about me. And I felt it even more for James. I thought about what I’d said before, how I’d been between a pack and a hard place, but James had been trying to serve two very different masters. I wasn’t happy he’d threatened Haley, and we’d talk about that if I managed to live, but he’d also managed to warn me that something
was wrong, that my family was in trouble … and to strengthen the security around them. In a weird, messed-up way, he’d kept them safe.
“I’m not as smart as some of the people I know. But you know what? Neither are you.”
He grabbed me again and lifted me to my feet, his hand grasping the front of my shirt right by my throat. I put my hands on his and pushed my will into him. Douglas was probably going to kill me, but before that happened, I was going to make that bastard remember what it was like to be human.
“Fucking look at him, Douglas!”
A sneer on his face, Douglas complied. The sneer dissolved as he stood there, face-to-face with James. Because his friend, his only friend, was a pathetic sight to see. Even from here, I could see James quaking in place, terrified and unsure, still looking like that lost little boy. Tears cutting down his cheeks. Sparks of emotions came to life somewhere deep in Douglas, and I reached for them, grabbed them, made them thrive. I made Douglas remember. I took my memory of the old faded photograph by James’s bed and I shoved it at him, suddenly realizing from my connection to Douglas how old that picture was. For a split second, I wondered how old each of them was. This wasn’t the first time my enemy had cheated death.
That’s when Nick lost control of the circle. But we didn’t move. Outside of where James stood, the pack still fought, but in the epicenter of things, there was only stillness.
“How long have you had him?” I whispered.
“We stopped counting after sixty, I think,” Douglas answered with a voice I’d never heard from him. Soft. Gentle. “His kind mature at a different rate, you know. He’s no more than a teenager, really.”
Then a strange thing, or perhaps I should say a stranger thing, happened, and Frank—still looking like he was going to piss himself—started it. My mousy little friend walked up to James, staring at Douglas the whole time, and put his hand on James’s shoulder. I wasn’t sure who was more surprised—James or Douglas or Frank. My other friends, all except a fully changed Ramon, who was now laying a bear-style smackdown on Eric and a few other wolves, followed suit. Brooke slipped an arm around James’s waist and glared defiantly at Douglas as Ashley slipped into the space between James and Frank. Sean and Brid stood behind him, arms crossed and eyes fierce, the only members of the pack caught up in our moment. Haley stepped in front of James, putting herself between him and Douglas, a look of stubborn determination on her face. She glared at Douglas. “He’s part of our family now. You had your chance, and you fucked it up. You gave him to us.” She crossed her arms. “No backsies.”
James blinked in surprise. I don’t think he would have been more shocked if a unicorn had come up and smacked him in the eye. “Haley, no. You don’t understand—I threatened you. That’s not … we’re not…” He gave up on whatever argument he was trying to put forth. “I put that knife in your door.”
Haley shrugged, not taking her gaze off Douglas. “We all make mistakes. Family means you get past them. And you buy them new doors.”
Douglas pulled his hand back. Not the one holding me by the throat, of course. He hadn’t changed that much.
“James?” Douglas’s voice was steady, but something in the tone sounded uncertain. I was still connected to Douglas, and I could feel his confusion that James hadn’t moved. The circle was broken, but James remained on the outside. He hadn’t rushed immediately to Douglas’s side. Instead he was staring at the huddled group around him, a perplexed look on his face. It was the look of someone who, on a dare, had asked a cheerleader out and was shocked when she said yes.
Something inside Douglas broke. If I were being melodramatic, I’d say it was his heart, but then, I don’t believe Douglas had one of those.
“You’re beginning to get it, I think.” I spoke softly but pitched my voice so he could hear me. “You are like a rabid dog. A sick thing that needs to be put down. But there’s hope for him. There’s family for him.” Douglas continued to stare at James. “I think you did your best. For James, I believe you tried.”
“I keep underestimating you,” Douglas said. He loosened his tie, a bemused look on his face, dropping it before turning toward me. “Pure sloppiness on my part.” He let out a tired sigh. “I don’t get you, Samhain, and I don’t think I ever will.”
It’s hard to understand compassion when you haven’t any, the crow said as he hopped up onto my shoulder. Or love.
“I don’t want to kill you, Douglas. Not because you don’t deserve it, but because I’m tired of killing. You probably don’t understand what that feels like.”
Douglas smiled then, and it was the closest I’d ever seen to a real smile on his face. He reached up and pulled a long silver chain with something shiny hanging from it over his head. He dropped it in the grass.
I didn’t know what it was, but the reaction in James was instantaneous. He went wild, screaming and tugging against the hands that were now restraining him.
Douglas ignored him. He let go of me and walked over to where I’d stabbed the athame into the dirt. When he came back, it took everything I had not to turn and run the other way. There was nowhere to run to anyway. So I held my ground and tried to appear as badass as possible.
He came within reach of me and stopped. “I think you know what you have to do.”
“I did that already,” I said. “And nothing happened.”
“Why don’t you try again?”
Do you understand? I asked the crow.
I’m pretty sure he’s mortal now.
You’re pretty sure?!?
Only one way to find out, Meat.
I nodded at Douglas. I did know what I had to do. That didn’t mean I wanted to do it. James screamed again and tried to buck the hands holding him back, but there were too many.
Douglas handed the athame to me, hilt first, a small, broken smile on his face. “It would have been kinder if you had killed me while I was still out of it.”
“Not to James,” I said. “And I can’t let you break another person. I just can’t.”
He tilted his head and, for an instant, a fleeting, too-short instant, I saw what Douglas could have been. It hurt to see.
Then he grabbed my hand and used it to stab the dagger right into his chest. He choked and collapsed to the ground, dragging me with him. There was no blood, but Douglas gagged anyway, like his lungs were filling with it. With his hands on mine, I felt everything. The pain. The fear of dying. And above all that, his whole reason for sacrifice. His love for James, the closest thing to family he had.
And for the second time, I sat there and watched him die. Only this time it was worse, because I was fully aware of exactly what was happening. Yes, he deserved to die many times over for what he had done. That didn’t mean I had to like it.
His last breath rattled out, and power hit me, the end of the ritual Douglas had started in his basement so many weeks ago finally coming home to roost. At the end of the ritual, when I’d been flooded with power I thought was Douglas’s but had really been my own, I’d been overwhelmed, an explosion of energy inside me begging to be used, needing to be used. This time, it was different. Douglas’s gift slithered into me like an enormous snake, and it settled in until I was full, its tail spun tight around my neck, choking me. Like I’d held my breath until I was about to pass out, my head swimming and my heart fit to explode.
I swallowed it slowly, that too-big bite, and it hurt going down, but eventually I managed.
When it was finished, I closed Douglas’s eyes and called to Ed. A torn portal gaped and then Ed towered over me, his jackal face solemn.
“I have need of your services,” I said.
Ed nodded. It is time for him to be judged.
I wiped my hand on the grass, even though there was nothing on it. The crow, oddly enough, pulled on my ear gently with his beak. I think he was trying to comfort me. Taco ignored him, still chewing on the remnants of his egg. Somehow he knew that the crow wasn’t food.
You feel sorry for his passing, des
pite all he has done? Ed’s ears pitched forward out of curiosity.
“Yeah,” I said.
Why?
I struggled to find an answer. Why did I feel so bad? Douglas was a terrible person, and he had caused untold hurt and pain to so many people. But I grieved for him anyway. “Someone died today,” I said. “That should be mourned. And respected.” I looked over at James, who had collapsed to his knees, anguish clear on his face. “My sorrow is for those he leaves behind and what he could have been.”
I tilted back so I could look at Ed. “Is that wrong?”
It is not wrong, he said, to have a good heart. He reached down then and picked Douglas up gently. I don’t know if that will be enough to balance his scales, but know that Ma’at and Thoth are fair. Maybe he can avoid Ammut’s jaws.
Ed was saying that more to put a damper on my pity and guilt than from any real belief, I think. We all knew Douglas was not going to do well in his final judgment.
29
TAKE ME HOME TONIGHT
Ed opened up a vortex and took Douglas’s body away. The crow on my shoulder gave me another soft bite on the ear, then he flew over to the grass, picking up whatever shiny silver thing Douglas had dropped. He flew after Ed, and with a nod toward me, Ashley joined them, her manner unusually solemn.
You’d think, after all that hubbub, that it would be eerily quiet, but that wasn’t true. Frogs still croaked, wolves howled, trees rustled. The world kept moving, no matter what we had going on.
Most of the pack was gone, running through the woods, I hope comforted by the knowledge that Brannoc’s killer was gone. The howls and yips sounded joyful at any rate. Only Brid and her brothers remained alongside my friends, family, and Sexy Gary. Oh, and Minion was chewing on the greenery. Mustn’t forget dear, sweet Minion.