Sundered: Book 1 (The Nevermore Trilogy)

by Shannon Mayer

  I swallowed hard, aware that my emotions were even closer to the surface with all the hormones rushing through me. I had to stop thinking of him as my husband. Sebastian was gone, even if his body was still here. Even so, I had to say something to him. I had to more for me than for him.

  “Sebastian, if you’re still in there, it’s okay. I don’t like that you and Jessica . . .” I had barely said her name when he started to shake his head.

  I frowned, wondering if it was just a nervous tick. It had been over four weeks since he had turned; I didn’t want to fool myself into believing he was still in there, still Sebastian underneath it all. I didn’t want to go through that pain again of losing him.

  “Jessica is a good girl. It’s okay, I understand.” It wasn’t okay, and I didn’t understand, but I could keep those thoughts to myself.

  Again, though, he shook his head, this time adding a frown for good measure. Did he mean what I think he did? As if to punctuate that he didn’t, Jessica took that moment to come screaming out of the bush, half naked, hands flailing as she attacked Sebastian. The ferocity of her attempt shocked me, and Sebastian shoving her hard was even more of a shock. She tumbled to the ground and lay there breathing hard, her bare breasts heaving.

  Seeing me, she screeched and snapped her teeth at me, and I gave an involuntary step back. A sly look slid over her face and in a flash she was completely naked, the rest of her clothes strewn about the ground, swinging her hips and touching her own body as she tried to entice Sebastian. He looked at her and shook his head. Turning his back on her, he faced me, again shaking his head.

  When she wouldn’t leave, he turned and roared at her, making her cringe away from him as she scooped up her clothes and ran back to the bush, snarling and snapping the whole way.

  “Bastian?” My voice was soft as I could make it without whispering. I don’t remember walking to the gate, but suddenly I was there, well within reaching distance. Sebastian stepped close, his eyes strange and yet, somehow, I could see that he was still my husband, the man I loved and the father of our child. Fear tickled at the back of my neck, but I pushed it away and focused on the love.

  I reached out and he flinched. “Please,” I said. “Give me your hand.”

  Sebastian stood still for so long I wasn’t sure he understood, until ever so slowly he raised his hand, offering it to me. The back of it was covered in the faint lines that shadowed so much of the bodies of those who took the drug, designs that look suspiciously like the flower on the broom plants.

  His skin was cool to the touch, far cooler than it should have been, but I revelled in the touch of skin on skin.

  With a suddenness that sent me reeling, Sebastian snarled and snatched his hand out of mine, slicing his own arm as he ripped it back through the gate. I stumbled backwards and fell, instinctively rolling to protect my belly.

  Tears filled my eyes, not from the pain in my body, but the pain in my heart. “Bastian,” I whispered, choking on his name.

  His eyes softened, and he crouched down and reached once more through the gate. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t trust him. With a sob, I stood and ran to the back of the house, gave Nero a pat and grabbed my backpacks. I brushed the tears away and took a deep cleansing breath. There was no going back. Sebastian might have been fighting his natural inclinations, but even I could see that the drug was too strong.

  17

  The broom was mostly out of bloom now, the seed pods hanging heavy on the branches, ready to germinate for next year’s crop of hateful plants.

  I walked as swiftly as I could, not wanting to run and crash through the bush unless I had to, knowing that every sound I made could draw the pack down on me. Stepping lightly, I avoided twigs and piles of branches, pushed overhanging limbs out of my way, and gently let them go back into place.

  Twenty minutes into my hike, a shiver went down my spine and I froze. I’d only felt this way once before, when Sebastian and I had gone to Dan’s and the bear had jumped out at us. I turned slowly to see Bob, as Dan had called him, on his hind legs sniffing at the air. Bob was thin, far thinner than he should have been for the middle of the summer season. No doubt the pack was direct competition for him and his regular food sources.

  “Now, Bob, I know you don’t like me, but remember what Dan said.” I hoped I could talk my way out of this, though my body was trembling, the adrenaline coursing through me.

  Bob grunted and dropped to all fours, again sniffing the air. Maybe the pack smelled different than regular humans? It would make sense. Bob took one step toward me, and I took a step back. He gave a snort and pawed at the ground. With great care and slow movements, I took my bag from my back and took out one of my precious cans of beans. The can opener clicked as the lid popped off and the scent of molasses covered legumes filled the air.

  “See, Bob, I’m a nice girl. I’m going to give you these beans and then I’m going to leave.” I put the open can on the ground. It was a sacrifice, but I had to make it if I wanted even a chance at more food.

  Bob sniffed the air and let out a low grunt. As he padded close to the can, I backed up, grateful his attention was solely on the food. I kept backing up till I rounded a corner, then turned and ran. I pushed myself as far as my adrenaline and legs would take me then stopped to listen, my ears straining for any sound. No bear behind me, and the birds were still chirping. That had to be a good sign.

  Another five minutes and I came to a six-way intersection, the trail to the right flagged with a red kerchief. “Thank you, Dan, even if you were a miserable old coot,” I said and headed down the marked path. What I found though was something less than what I was hoping for.

  Dan hadn’t made it home from our place, at least that’s what it looked like. His army boots, shredded pants, and tattered shirt were spread around a veritable pile of bones. His rifle had been pushed to the side, untouched and unused for fear of drawing more Nevermores. Or maybe he’d been hit from behind and never had a chance. I would never know.

  “I’m so sorry, Dan,” I whispered as I bent to retrieve the rifle and ammo belt, quickly looking for any other useful things on his body. It wasn’t a nice task, but necessary.

  In the one intact pocket of his pants was something that let me know I did have guardian angels watching over me. Dan’s house key.

  Crouched over Dan’s bones, I again had a feeling of being watched. “Come on, Bob,” I said, “I only have one can left.” I turned to see not Bob behind me, but Sebastian.

  We stared at one another, no gate between us, nothing to stop him from attacking me, as his pack would do if they found me out in the bush.

  I took a deep breath and stood slowly, my one hand still holding the rifle, the other gripping the key. Sebastian watched me, his expression not changing or giving me any hint to what he was thinking. I looked up the trail the way I was headed, then back to Sebastian.

  I licked my lips. There was nothing between us now, no gate to save me, only the rifle, if I dared use it. I set the rifle on the ground and walked slowly toward Sebastian, my heart pounding, my head screaming for me to run. There was one thing that might keep Sebastian from attacking me, but it was a roll of the dice.

  I put my hands on my belly and said, “I’m pregnant.”

  Sebastian blinked, then frowned and stepped toward me. It took everything I had to hold my ground as I thought of his face as he snarled at me at the gate.

  With slow, deliberate steps, Sebastian approached me.

  I watched his eyes as he reached for me, and I held perfectly still. With the softest of touches, his fingertips rested on my bump, the slight frown of confusion swiftly followed by the flush of understanding. His fingers trembled across my belly and I lifted my shirt so he could touch the skin and feel the changes in my body. His hand brushed across my belly button and then cupped the small swell of our child within me. I looked up to see his eyes wide and sparkling with unshed tears. In that moment, I knew that Sebastian would never truly lose himself,
he was too strong for that and he loved me too much to forget me.

  “I love you, Sebastian.” My words, simple and true as they were, sparked something in him.

  He let out a low keening wail as he slid to his knees, pressing his cheek against my stomach. A flash of fear warmed my skin, but I put it out. I couldn’t truly be afraid of my husband, he didn’t have it in him to kill the Alpha, and there was no way he would hurt me or our child.

  “I have to go.” I pulled away, and Sebastian looked up, his eyes betraying his every emotion. “I have to get more food, clothes, and things. I’m going to Dan’s first.” Maybe that was too much hope on my part, thinking he could fully understand, but I had to believe.

  I tucked my shirt in and adjusted the backpack. I trailed my fingertips across his face and then stepped back from him. I smiled, then turned and started walking, trusting that my heart was telling me the truth and I was not being another fool in love.

  Footsteps from behind sped my pulse, but he wasn’t running. He was keeping pace with me. As we walked, twenty feet between us, I thought about what it was that compelled me to trust him. Was it the love we shared? Yes, somewhat, but I think more than that—

  Sebastian growled and the tension around us rose. I glanced over my shoulder to see him snarling at the bush where a bird suddenly took flight. I shook my head and picked up my train of thought again. More than the love, it was that I knew him; I knew the person he was, and how set he was in his own beliefs and standards. He hadn’t just been a good man; he’d lived his life as a good man, what he said and what he did always matched up. Even though he was a Nevermore now, I could still see those qualities in him, and they were what allowed me to trust him.

  Ten minutes, and I pushed my way through a small clump of huckleberries and found myself in Dan’s backyard. I pulled back and peeked out through the bush. No need to go running into Nevermores at this point in the game.

  For several minutes I waited, breathing in the sweet and intoxicating scent of the flowers on the huckleberry bush. A soft shuffle from behind me, and I went very still, a warm breath whispering down the back of my neck. Sebastian’s hands circled around me, brushing first my belly, then my waist and sliding up to cup my breasts. I tried to think straight as he pressed his lips to the back of my neck, nuzzling the tender skin behind my ear. He let out a low purr and then pushed me out of the bush and into the garden.

  I gasped in a lungful of air and spun to hear a soft chuckle from the huckleberry bush. I couldn’t help but smile. Damn, even now, even this way, he wanted me and I wanted him. That was love; it had the power to overcome any physical change in each other.

  Dan’s key was cool in my hand, but I didn’t need it. The door was unlocked. Stepping into the dim interior, I waited for my eyes to adjust to the low light before going any further. I shut the door behind me, locking it for good measure. It was musty and warm, the windows all shut tight and the air stale from no movement. Eerie, and with more than a measure of feeling haunted, the house echoed my footsteps as I started my search.

  The obvious places were first, kitchen and pantry, both of which were full to the brim with food, preserves, cans of fruit, and pasta. A bag of dried milk. My mouth watered at the thought of dairy, even fake dairy, and I scrambled to find myself some water to mix it with. I didn’t have to look far. Dan had stacks upon stacks of individual-sized bottled water in the pantry. I pulled one out and mixed in the evaporated milk, shaking it for good measure.

  I downed every last drop of it, the chalky texture and faint milk flavour heavenly to my deprived taste buds. The stress of the walk, my moment with Sebastian, the fact that I was pregnant and already tired, along with my huge guzzle of milk left me more than a little sleepy. I shook the feeling off, though. I couldn’t dawdle here, there was too much chance that the pack would come looking for Sebastian—or worse, Jessica would come looking for him.

  I climbed the stairs to the upper level, the weight of the air seeming to grow heavier with each step. On the top step, a creak sounded from inside the house and it wasn’t me.

  Frozen to the spot, I strained my ears, listening till they were ringing with the silence. After several minutes with no more noise, I convinced myself to take another step and that’s when the gun was shoved into my face.

  “What the hell are you doing breaking into my house, woman?” Dan snarled, as he stared down his rifle at me.

  “Dan. I thought . . . I mean, I found . . . bones,” I stuttered out.

  He lowered the gun. “Well, at least you ain’t one of them.” Dan brushed past me and clomped downstairs. “Come on, woman, I told you I’d give you food and weapons if you made it here, and you did.”

  I followed him, my mouth dry, and my heart not sure if it was going to gallop away with me or stop completely. It seemed to settle on an unsteady rhythm that left me more than a little wobbly of leg.

  “I see you’ve made yourself at home,” Dan said as he pointed to the open bag of dried milk.

  I shrugged, determined not to feel bad. “I thought you were dead.”

  He grunted and went to packing my backpacks with food. “This should last you for a while. Come back when you need more.” He handed me one pack full, two empty. That wasn’t going to be enough, not by a long shot.

  “I’m pregnant, Dan. I need to take more than that; I need to stockpile the food at my place. Unless you want me to move in here with you.”

  “Shit.” He spit on the floor. “Why’d you go and get knocked up? I sure as hell hope it ain’t by that infected man of yours.”

  I sucked in a breath. “How do you know about Sebastian?”

  “One of those things was following him, a young female. She wasn’t interested in eating him. So I shot at him.”

  “What?” That was what Sebastian had been trying to tell me about Dan, that he’d been shooting at him. A tap on one of the windows brought my head around.

  Sebastian peered in through the dirty glass, his head cocked to one side. Dan snapped his gun up, and I pushed it down. “No! Stop, he’s not like the rest of them!” Sebastian snarled at Dan and I put my hand up on the window.

  The snarl faded and he mimicked me, putting his hand against mine. Dan’s eyebrows rose. “Well, I’ll be buggered.”

  “He remembers me, Dan, I don’t know how or why—but he does. Please don’t shoot him.”

  “For now. But if he shows even the slightest inclination to attack, that’s it, he’s done.”

  I nodded and let out a breath. “Thank you.” I looked around the pantry. “Now, can we please fill the other backpacks?”

  “I ain’t helping you move this stuff, woman. I ain’t stepping outside this house except for my own needs, no one else’s,” Dan said.

  I put a can of tomatoes in. “That’s fine, Dan. I thank you for the food; I don’t expect you to help me pack it.”

  We filled the packs with the heavier stuff, cans, sauces, and rice. I could make more trips this way, bringing home the lighter loads the more tired and pregnant I got. I stepped outside, one backpack on and one in each hand, and Dan raised his gun, pointing it past me.

  “I hope you’re right about your man, for your sake, woman,” he said as he slowly shut the door in my face. Sebastian’s hand came down on mine, startling me. I looked up, and he motioned at the bag on my back.

  “It’s all I can take. I’ll have to make more trips anyway,” I said.

  He shook his head and pointed to his own back.

  “Are you sure?”

  Again, he nodded, and I helped him to position two of the packs on his back, his fingers unable to even tighten or loosen the straps.

  The trip back to the farm was uneventful, which surprised me. I thought maybe Bob would be waiting for another can of beans at the least. When we got to the back gate, Sebastian twenty feet behind, I slipped through and beckoned him in.

  “Come on. You aren’t going to hurt me. I know that,” I said.

  He shook his head and shrugge
d out of the bags before slipping off into the bush, as if he’d never been there.

  Maybe I trusted him, but it looked like he didn’t trust himself. That was enough to give me pause, to make me consider the fact that even though he was my husband, I’d been truly foolish to let him so close to me, no matter how much I loved him.

  If only I’d remembered that a week later, then perhaps things would have turned out differently. Perhaps I wouldn’t have had to turn my knife on him and do what no woman should have to.

  18

  For the next week, I made two to three trips a day and the routine was well set. I took three bags, my can opener and a can of beans. Bob would meet me halfway to Dan’s, and I would give him the can of beans like some offering a knight errant would give to a bridge troll. Sebastian followed me and packed a bag back so that by the end of the week we’d moved twenty-one backpacks full of food and necessities. Dan even had a good stash of drugs squirreled away: antibiotics, over the counter pain killers, and some pill forms of morphine. I took it all thinking of possible complications and pain during the labour that I would face in a few short months.

  Dan grumbled fiercely that I was taking his offer to the extreme, but when I pointed out that I’d barely made a dent in his supplies, he settled down. It didn’t hurt that on the third day I managed to bake cookies and I took some to him, though they were burnt around the edges. I was still trying to figure out the ways of baking with a wood burning cook stove. I suppose that even a grizzled old man likes homemade goodies, burnt on the edges or not.

  On the seventh day, Sebastian was more than a little edgy, his eyes darting and his mouth clicking from time to time. I’d offered him food as I always did, and he pushed it away at first, in the past few days never once taking from the stores we were collecting.