by Jenni Moen
Wish it.
Please let me be normal again.
I wasn’t even sure anymore who I was praying to, but I barely had time to think it before it was happening.
Exactly as it had when Willow had changed places with the doe, the air warbled and warped around me. Glittering and shining, it came alive at the same time my body did. An electrical current zipped through me, making my skin—or what should’ve been skin—crawl and my bones ache. But when I looked down again, it was just me—the same man I saw when I got out of the shower in the morning, the same man who snuck in with the dawn almost every day. Except, in addition to being naked, I was covered in blood.
Instinctively, I reached up and touched my head. The proof of the wound was slippery between my fingers, but the blood wasn’t enough to cause me worry. More likely, the blood sprayed across my chest belonged to Willow.
She gasped, and it was the wake-up call I needed. I crouched beside her. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“No time.” Each breath left her body on a wheeze.
“They won’t be able to help her.” I jumped at the garbled voice behind me and my head whipped in its direction. I recognized the old man as one who ate breakfast at the diner nearly every morning. As he glanced back and forth between Willow and me, I was suddenly and awkwardly aware we were naked. The desire to cover her body with my own was overwhelming, and I was sure I would’ve if it wouldn’t hurt her more.
“Trust me. I’ve seen it all before.” His expression was concerned and knowing. “I’m a doctor of your kind.”
My kind. I no longer knew what my kind was.
“Can you get her into the house for me?” he asked.
“Yes, of course,” I stammered. I studied her for a second, strategizing the best way to move her without bumping the arrow or jostling her more than necessary, and then I scooped her up in my arms.
“Something’s wrong, Clive,” she groaned. “I didn’t shift on my own.”
“It’s probably a reaction to something. Maybe the arrowhead is dipped in silver,” he said, following along behind me. “Curious.”
She nodded and then her head listed to the side, coming to rest against my shoulder.
“Silver is poison to the two-natured,” he said as if he knew I was light-years behind the two of them. “It will cause an involuntary reaction and force them to shift when they don’t want to.”
The two-natured. Was that what she was? And me?
“What do you think?” he asked, holding the door open for us.
I walked through the house with Willow in my arms and Clive hobbling steadily along behind me. As I laid her on her bed, I realized, whatever she was, I’d already accepted it. Maybe it was because she’d already confided in me about her empath abilities. Or maybe because I’d watched her change from a deer to a woman right before my eyes. There’d always been something magical about her.
“And you, too.”
It was the second time the old man had seemed to answer a question he’d plucked right out of my mind.
“Yes, I’m clairvoyant and telepathic, too, when it suits me,” he said, doing it again.
“So you know what I’m thinking?” I pulled a blanket up over her as much as I could while still avoiding her wound.
“Much like Willow can read your emotions. Don’t hold a grudge, though. It’s why I’m here,” he said setting a black bag on the bed I hadn’t noticed before that moment. It was the type of doctor’s bag used for house calls back when doctors still made those. “I fell asleep while watching Wheel of Fortune and had a dream she’d been shot with a silver arrow. You appeared to be in distress as well.”
I added this to the ever-growing list of impossibilities I now knew were true.
As he pulled out a stethoscope, I brushed her hair away from her face. Her eyes were closed, and she looked so peaceful it scared me. “Then you can tell me what she’s thinking.”
He held up a finger while he listened to her heart. The room was deadly silent, and for the first time, I considered the possibility Willow wouldn’t make it. The idea of life without her ripped my recently rejuvenated heart from my own chest.
After a few long seconds, he pulled the stethoscope from his ears and set it on the bed. “You should ask her yourself while I’m gone. Try to keep her awake.”
“You’re leaving?” I asked, bowing up to the tiny man as if he wasn’t fifty years older and a hundred pounds lighter than I was. Only over my dead body would he be leaving this house. I’d already placed all of my faith in him and wasted precious time.
“No, no, son. I need to gather some stuff from around the house. Do you know if Janice’s things are still here?”
“The basement,” Willow whispered. Clive scurried off, and she smiled a weak smile. “Strange little bird, isn’t he?
“Not the weirdest thing I’ve seen tonight.”
“Quinn? Get dressed, okay? Just in case.”
“In case of what? I think Clive only has eyes for you.” I winked at her.
Her lips pulled into a thin smile. “Just do it. If I don’t make it, then you’ll have to call people.”
There was no response to that. I crossed to the dresser and dug through the drawer she’d given me only because she’d asked me. I’d do my damnedest to move heaven and earth if she asked me. Without paying attention, I pulled out the first thing my hand touched and slipped on a pair of athletic shorts and returned to her side. I got down on my knees and leaned against the side of the bed. Reaching for her hand, I closed my eyes ready to make every bargain I could to have some more time with her.
I’d give up thousands of days alone for only one more day with her.
“Don’t be so sad, my love. You’re clouding up my happy.”
“I’m sorry …” The words caught in my throat. It was the closest either one of us had ever come to any sort of proclamation. My heart was suddenly too full to contain it all. I had to tell her. Just in case.
“I love you, Willow,” I blurted. It was so ineloquent. So completely insufficient, considering how I truly felt. I wanted the first time I said it to be under different circumstances. Those three little words should be a promise for the future, not a goodbye.
“I know,” she whispered. A smile pulled at her lips. “And I love you, too. Honestly, I’m so happy.”
There was an arrow sticking out of her chest, she could barely speak, and some strange voodoo doctor was wandering around her house. “How can you possibly be happy?”
“I’m just so glad I got to see it.” Her eyelids fluttered closed as if she was imagining it. Whatever it was.
“What?” I stroked her hand.
“You realizing what you are.” She intertwined her fingers with mine. “You are so magnificent. There is no other word. Magnificent. I wish you could see you through my eyes.”
“I am a freak. A monster.”
“Then I am too.”
“No.” She was anything but a monster. “I’m so sorry. You wouldn’t have been out there if it weren’t for me. I know you were out there because I was looking for you.”
“So you can accept me for what I am and love me anyway?” she asked, blinking at me. Her coppery eyes searched mine, begging me to say yes.
The eyes were the common thread.
Willow’s eyes and those of the doe who had curled up beside me in the cold were the same. They held the same amount of love and showered me with the same amount of reverence. I could see it now.
“No matter what.” I nearly choked on the words.
“But you can’t accept you are the same? That we were made for each other?”
I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed the back of it. It was so much easier to accept whatever Willow was than it was to accept the truth about myself.
“Two perfect counterparts,” she continued. “Two souls destined to find our way back to each other.” She coughed again and winced.
“You need to stop talking now, Willow. There wi
ll be a lot of time to talk later.” I hoped I wasn’t making promises I couldn’t keep.
“But I have so much to tell you. Your dad—” Another cough tore through her body, and she cried out in pain.
I was on my knees, ready to beg and plead. “No more. Only one thing matters right now.” With our hands still entwined, I leaned over and brushed a kiss across her lips, careful not to touch her anywhere else. “I don’t know what I am, but I accept us … whatever that means. I want more time with you, and I’ll take it anyway I can get it.”
“Good enough.” Her breath was faint against my lips. Too faint.
“I’ll help you through this, and then you’ll help me get through whatever’s next. Deal?”
She smiled. It was weak but determined. “Deal. We have to prove to Clive that this is real. Isn’t that right, Clive?”
“That’s right,” Clive said from behind me. His voice was wrangled and his eyes moist, and I wondered how long he’d been standing there. He crooked a skinny finger at me. “Come here, Mr. Dearborn.”
We stepped away from Willow though I never took my eyes off her. “What’s the plan? By my estimate, the arrow is embedded a couple of inches into her chest.”
“At least that much. The plan is you’re going to pull it out. The quicker, the better because it’s going to be painful and—”
“No,” I interrupted. I knew enough about wounds to know what he was suggesting would only make her injuries worse. She needed surgery. Anesthesia. A sterile environment. We had none of those and apparently no means to get them. “Ripping it out will cause too much damage.”
“No choice. We have to get the silver out of her system. It’s killing her.”
“How long?”
“Minutes, not hours.”
I swallowed my fear. “And if she bleeds out?”
“She won’t. As soon as you get it out, I’ll spread this on the wound.” He held up a small bowl. “It’s a tincture of Burdock, Echinacea, ipecac, milk thistle, and yellow dock. It will reverse the effects of the silver and slow the bleeding. You be ready to apply pressure to it, and when she’s ready, we’ll take her outside. She’ll need to shift as soon as she’s able.”
“Is that wise?” I’d felt what it did to my own body. Whatever was involved in the rearrangement of our molecules to make such a thing possible couldn’t be good for her in her current state.
Clive patted me on the arm and smiled. “You have a lot to learn, my boy. As soon as she shifts, the wound will start healing. She’ll be walking around on two legs by morning.” He smiled. “If that’s what you prefer.”
“I’d feel better if you stay with her,” he continued. “It looks like you could use a little time to heal yourself.” He nodded to the open wound on my head. “That’s a nasty cut you have there.”
“I think I broke something.”
“I saw, but when you shift again, your antler will be as good as new. Now, let’s get your teacher fixed up so she can show you what you’re made of.”
Clive handed me a towel and then moved around to where I’d been standing next to Willow. “You better get on the other side of her.”
Silently, I crawled across her big bed, cognizant that every move probably hurt her. Her eyes were closed again, and her breathing shallow.
“On the count of three,” Clive said.
“No,” she said. “No warning.”
Her face was so serene and peaceful. Doing anything to disturb it required me to give myself a pep talk. Don’t twist it. That will hurt more. Pull straight up. Hard enough to get it out on the first pull. I met Clive’s eyes and, in agreement, he nodded.
One, two, three.
Willow’s back arched off the bed and she gasped and sputtered obscenities of the sort I’d never heard come from her mouth. I tossed the arrow away and reached for her shoulders to help keep her still for Clive. She struggled against us with more strength than I thought her tiny frame possessed. But within seconds, the wound was covered with the salve. With both hands, I held the towel pressed firmly over it as Willow’s rigid body gradually succumbed to the healing tincture. Slowly, the fear and agony drained from her face, and she sank into the bed. Her breathing deepened.
I didn’t dare move, not even when Willow’s gray cat jumped up on the bed and slunk to the head of the bed. I growled at him as he curled around the top of her head. He hissed and matched my expression. Neither of us was leaving.
“That damn cat,” Clive said looking fondly at the animal. “Reminds me of Janice. Annoyingly stubborn and fiercely protective.”
“He makes Willow happy,” I conceded. “She has a soft spot for annoyingly stubborn and fiercely protective creatures.” Clive put the bowl on the bedside table and took a few steps toward the hall. “I’m going to disappear for a bit.”
After everything I’d seen and heard, I couldn’t help but wonder if he meant it literally.
He chuckled. “No. I thought I’d give you some time together. You can remove the pressure in about five minutes and add more of the tincture. I’ll be back.”
Gaston and I held vigil over her as Willow fell into a deep sleep.
I waited twice as long as Clive had suggested and then peeked at the wound. It was raw and angry, but the salve seemed to be doing its job because the bleeding had all but stopped. I applied more of the medicine and then stretched out beside her, taking her hand in mine and muttering promises I knew she couldn’t hear.
QUINN
“I THINK SHE’S READY,” CLIVE said, nudging me awake. “Be careful. You’re kind of … all tangled up there.” He shook his finger at me, but his expression was more amusement than disapproval.
“Oh,” I said, trying to peel myself off Willow without disturbing her too much. With one leg thrown over hers and an arm draped across her waist, I was worse than the cat still curled around her head. “I’m so sorry. I guess I was completely knocked out.”
Her lips turned up into a sweet smile. “That’s a good problem to have.” It was something that only seemed to happen when I slept beside her. Another good problem to have.
“Do you think you can walk?” Clive asked. “I let you sleep for a while. You both looked like you needed it. But I think you better get a move on now.” According to the clock on the bedside table, more than half the night was gone.
“Yes, I think so.” Her voice was steady, and her breathing unlabored. She’d made a lot of progress in a short amount of time. Clive’s tincture had obviously done its job well.
“I can carry her,” I said, not because she needed me to, but because I wanted to. I swung my feet to the floor and scratched my head.
“Get her to the trees,” he said with a knowing smile. “Then let her do the rest.”
My hand hit the tender spot, and I immediately looked at Willow to see if she’d felt it too.
She wrinkled her nose, and she looked around the room as if maybe she could see it in the air. “Nope. Just normal stuff.”
Clive leaned over Willow and looked at the wound. “Nothing normal about the two of you, I’m afraid, but you both should heal just fine now.”
“Thank you so much, Clive. What would we have done without you?”
Clive ducked his head. “It felt good to practice a little medicine. It’s been a long time.”
“Anything else we need to do for her?” I asked. It seemed impossible to me that after everything she went through and with the still open wound on her chest, he was giving her a clean bill of health and sending her on her way. Maybe it was their way, though.
Their way.
Our way.
“I would just suggest the two of you stay off the Reyburn land and maybe any other land where you think you might get shot at.” He zipped up his little black bag. “At least until after Christmas. Maybe spend a little more time exploring Running Deer Park. Hell, it’s named for you.”
Willow grinned. “I try, but this one’s been keeping me on my toes.”
“I know he has.
Proof that it does no good to fight destiny.” He turned toward the door. “I’ll hang around to make sure you two get off okay, and then I’ll let myself out the front.”
“Clive?” Willow asked. “Would you want all of Janice’s things? The basement is full—well you saw it—and I need to find a good home for all of her stuff.”
Clive slipped off into thought for a moment and then nodded. “I’ll take everything but the books … those are yours to keep. I have too many bad memories wrapped up in them. I prefer to remember the good ones.”
“I understand. I’ll keep them safe for you in case you ever change your mind. We can bring you the rest in a few days.”
Janice’s things. Books full of bad memories. I stared dumbly at the two of them with no idea of what they were talking about.
Clive had been right. I had so much to learn.
“Ready?” she asked.
“I think so.”
The smile on Willow’s face was worth it all. I didn’t have to have her empath abilities to know she was truly excited about the prospect of going out there with me. Her eyes lit up with the promise of many midnight runs to come. “Let’s go then,” she said, trying to sit up.
“Whoa there, tiger,” I said, scooping her up into my arms, careful to leave the sheet draped over the top of her. After all, Clive was watching, too. If she thought I was going to be okay with her running around naked in front of men … even old ones … she had some things to learn, too.
Clive snorted. “You’ll get used to it. I bet half the town has seen her naked.”
“Now, that is not true,” she protested. “I’m very discreet. I’m a shifter, not an exhibitionist. But I’m glad to see everyone is back to their old selves.”
Clive’s wrinkly old face stretched into a grin. “Some things never change, no matter what I’ve seen of ya.”