Deep In the Woods

by Chris Marie Green

  This sure sounded like the guy Dawn had heard. . . .

  “If you are The Whisper,” she said, “what did you do with Costin?”

  Whisper Kiko turned to look at her so deliberately that her skin chilled. And his eyes . . .

  They were a bottomless gray: glassy, like deep mirrors that’d been covered by black shrouds until someone had been fool enough to expose them.

  “Dawn,” he said, as if he’d been anticipating meeting her.

  The chills folded into prickles over her.

  He smiled again, the tips of Kiko’s mouth barely turning up. She’d never seen her friend with this kind of ominous civility in him before.

  “Questions, questions . . .” he said. “I tend to forget how many you people have until I am required to mingle with you. I am here for my own reasons, not yours, and if a question leads to an answer in the process, then there it is.”

  Dawn started to talk again, but Whisper Kiko stopped her.

  “What games you play. You were on the edge of summoning Costin, and you have no idea of what you almost did to him.”

  As The Whisper kept watching Dawn, she had a feeling she knew why else he was here. He saw the red splashes on her face, and he had to know what they were, what these new marks were doing in her.

  Was he also here to take care of that because Costin couldn’t?

  “When the dragon was slain,” The Whisper said, “I was not even certain that all his vampire line would turn human with his passing. He was a creature unlike any in existence. So, after Jonah’s body freed Costin, your ‘boss’ was delivered to me, where I had been waiting to receive him.”

  Dawn flicked her gaze away from The Whisper long enough to measure her companions’ reactions. Natalia was studying Kiko, clearly taking notes on the stencil pad of her brain. Jonah was fascinated.

  “Where did you receive him?” he asked.

  “How shall I explain this element?” Whisper Kiko pursed his lips in reflection. Then he said, “I would call it a resort, in your terms. Very well outfitted with comforts that have kept Costin occupied while he lingers. I have been rather busy of late—this is the reason he has been on his own so long—so I made certain he had an upgrade.”

  Dawn’s fears sped up.

  “I don’t understand,” she said. “He told me that, after the dragon and blood brothers were taken care of, his soul would be whole, and it would be all his. He’d go to a permanent, better place and not the hell he would’ve been sent to if he’d failed—the perdition he’d expected from exchanging his soul for vampirism in the first place.”

  “And his whole soul is his.” The Whisper sounded like he had all the patience in the world. “It is only that he has not traveled on. Not as of yet. And this is the reason his Friends have not journeyed to their ultimate resting place, either.”

  Heart . . . beating even faster now . . .

  Jonah leaned forward. “Why hasn’t he gone anywhere?” Whisper Kiko fixed his attention on the former host. “In earthly language, you would say that he has been reluctant to go into the light.”

  This was all too lofty to absorb. But here it all was now, staring her in the face.

  Costin . . . staying back from the light . . .

  Natalia finally spoke, the representative of reason. “Who precisely are you to have such powers?”

  “There is only one being here who needs to know.” The Whisper laid his gaze on Dawn again. “And it is housed in you. I was preparing myself to come and announce myself to your passenger, Dawn, before all of you gathered to summon Costin. You only saw to it that my arrival was scheduled earlier. Now, I should like to see how much has stayed with you.”

  No one moved, probably because they were figuring out the secret Dawn had been keeping from them. The dragon.

  Thank God The Whisper was here to see just how far the “passenger” had gone into her.

  “I’m glad you’re going to come in and let it know you’re there,” she said, not knowing if she’d feel better or worse after The Whisper made his introduction to the dragon’s blood. But relief finally relaxed her shoulders, as if something had been partially removed from them.

  The Whisper would get the dragon out of her. He could do that, right?

  With Kiko’s hand, he gripped Dawn tighter, and a wave of airy energy flowed through her fingers, her arm, down her side, halting just short of where she felt the dragon’s blood beating, as if it was lifting its head to see what approached. It was like the serpent and The Whisper were assessing each other—one burning, one cool.

  As The Whisper “introduced” itself, a flash took over Dawn’s vision, containing images almost like the ones Costin had given to her on the day of his confession in L.A., when he’d revealed who he was.

  But this was more intense, and she rocked with the force.

  A field of white, then lightning among the clouds, then a sound—a voice?—that registered only on the tip of her nerve endings until it became individual sighs that brought her back to the present as The Whisper’s energy began to retreat.

  At the same time, the dragon’s heat in her flailed around, as if it was in shock at what it’d just seen. With every one of its thrashings, she flinched, but The Whisper’s energy remained in her, soothing, breezy, and within seconds her mind eased to a calm.

  The voice of God, she thought, hoping he’d hear. Was that what the last sound was?

  No, no, dear, he said inside her. His own voice seemed to rotate, like the turning of endless time. That was only me you heard, announcing myself.

  Are you an angel? she asked.

  Such limitations to a definition. Let us use the word “enforcer” instead. Earth is my purview, and I have watched over it since its inception. I have, in times of need, balanced it until a day of judgment removes my responsibility. Until then, if I am needed, I travel in willing bodies. Contacting you humans in this way is far less traumatic for your sensibilities.

  Balance, she thought, finally understanding this small part of it as The Whisper gathered its energies and then pulled out of her, leaving her cells feeling like they were sucking back together.

  At his departure, the dragon’s blood seemed to shrink, too, but it didn’t entirely pull away from where it’d been headed—to her soul stain.

  Dawn’s adrenaline pumped. The blood was still in her. The Whisper hadn’t banished it.

  Why? Was it too strong?

  As her vision put itself back into focus, she saw that Natalia and Jonah hadn’t moved a muscle since the last time she’d seen them, and she wondered if only a fraction of a second had passed. She tried to recall what The Whisper had told her when he was inside of her, but she couldn’t remember exactly what he’d said—only that he had told her something, and it’d left an impression of power.

  He’d erased an explanation from her, the bastard.

  Was this his fail-safe? she thought. After introducing himself to the dragon, had he taken answers away so no one outside of her would know them? Was that how his kind operated?

  Part of her couldn’t blame him, because how else would he be able to move around the world in secret? But she still wanted some of those answers back, just like anyone would. Didn’t everyone want to know what really ran things, even though there were a million different theories that mostly depended on faith?

  Maybe there was no one answer, but she used what she vaguely remembered from his visit inside of her to try to find it, anyway.

  “You and Costin were both Travelers, but you aren’t like him at all, are you?”

  The Whisper’s gray eyes reflected balance—not dark, not light. “I only loaned him a few of my skills for ease of accomplishing his mission.”

  The others were following the conversation with frowns, because they hadn’t had The Whisper inside, and they seemed even more puzzled than she was.

  “You used Costin to balance out what the dragon had planned,” Dawn said.

  “Certain areas do require . . . adjustment. An
d I am afraid that the dragon was one of those requirements.” Whisper Kiko lifted an eyebrow. “There is no good without evil, and there are those who wander among you, seeking to sway one to the other. They know despair or ambition or blind greed when they sense it. They are drawn to it, and it is an entry point into the world for them.”

  “Eva,” Dawn said, knowing he wasn’t only talking about the dragon.

  The Whisper nodded. “All it takes is the trading of a soul for power. In the dragon’s case, he was always hungry for blood, and he received the ability to have it, both figuratively and literally. To feed off of it in the extreme. Thus, through giving up his soul, a vampire was created from his lusts; a vampire built to satisfy. He was one of a kind, though other vampires do exist in various other forms. But the dragon dealt with the very devil himself, whereas the rest strayed into the sights of lesser beings. Eva would be among those who greeted a lower creature.”

  “She met a demon?” Dawn didn’t care so much about The Whisper’s issues now. And maybe he’d planned it that way.

  “That name will do for your purposes.” Whisper Kiko held her hand tighter. “But you must know that I cannot directly interfere with the contract she made. There is no undoing matters so they might return to the way they were. It is all I can do to balance via indirect persuasion.”

  The ridiculous side of Dawn shouted, Then balance her! And balance my dad back to the way he was, too!

  But she knew that there was always a price. You couldn’t right the world without one. Costin had paid his own admission into wherever he was going.

  “So you just don’t get your hands dirty,” Dawn said. Maybe, in a way, The Whisper had to preserve his state of grace, like the Friends. Maybe that was the only way he could exist as what he was.

  “I can tell,” he said, as if misdirecting her further—and maybe he was an expert at doing it to anyone who got too close to really knowing what he was—“that you are worried about your father, who is only suffering due to Eva’s new contract.” He lowered his gray gaze at her. “Keep in mind that there are always offers to be made, as I made with Costin.”

  Jonah interrupted. “No, Dawn. Don’t.”

  Whisper Kiko was staring at her, as if expecting her to pursue the idea. And what if she did? Was there something Dawn could do to save Frank?

  She considered The Whisper and if he was coming from a good place. He’d given Costin the chance to right his wrongs, so he couldn’t be all bad. He’d wanted to tip the scales back to evenness for the world. . . .

  Jonah sounded off again. “Frank’s fine with who he is—he’s got Breisi with him, and that’s all he wants. She’s enough to lighten his soul stain, so don’t you dare think that anything you could do would change him for the better, Dawn.”

  His emotion was bared on his face: Jonah was telling the truth. He was looking out for her, reminding her of the price.

  And he was right. It was just hard for her to accept it when Frank seemed like a mockery of who he used to be.

  She shook her head, and she could tell The Whisper knew a reluctant refusal when he saw one. And he also seemed content that he had gotten her off of questioning him about what he was and on to more urgent things.

  “Then what about Costin?” Dawn asked. “Is he lingering in that resort of yours because he has to come back and take care of the remaining blood brothers?”

  “No need.” Whisper Kiko shrugged. “When the remaining master vampires turned human again, they were nothing more than string and dust, barely held together, primed for disintegration. I was not certain this would be the case, but centuries of wear on a body that no longer had extraordinary powers did its duty. Consequently, when Costin found himself rejoined with his soul for good, he held back from claiming his final reward. You see, he has been watching you, Dawn, just as I have been after the dragon’s death.”

  The comment clanged in her head, the side of her chest, where the burn of the dragon’s blood waited.

  Now, Kiko’s prophecy took on its full meaning: She was “key,” all right. The dragon’s key to moving on, even past his bodily termination.

  The burn of the blood, above and below, throbbed, as if it’d been resurrected by Dawn’s realization. The room seemed to tip and tumble.

  “It seems,” The Whisper said, “due to the strength that Costin always saw in you, the dragon has had difficulty in getting to your soul, where he would settle and grow in the darkness it absorbed, even during the short time you were a vampire. But the duration of your vampirism did not have as much to do with the force of your soul stain as your emotion. Specifically, in your case, anger. That is what has fed your darkness.”

  She already figured that. “I didn’t give the dragon permission to come into me.”

  “The dark marks on the other side of your body seem to have been invitation enough—signs that you were open to the darkness. And, surely enough, you did absorb the blood.”

  Natalia and Jonah looked just as stunned as Dawn, and it almost seemed like they expected her to turn into the dragon right here and now. But Dawn was still Dawn, except she had this . . . thing . . . in her. A prophecy come true, but in a way she’d never expected.

  “Costin could not have predicted,” The Whisper said, “that his soul would still be telling him that his work is not done here.”

  “But it is—he did technically kill the dragon.”

  “And he did fulfill his contract. You are correct.”

  Dawn still wasn’t getting it. Her mind was stuck on one point. “Is he going to come back and slay me then?”

  It wasn’t a joke. If he did return, would Dawn just spread her arms and allow herself to be terminated?

  “Think, Dawn. Does Costin need to slay you?” The Whisper asked.

  Cryptic as ever.

  “Why can’t you just get the dragon out of me?” she asked.

  “I could not end its contract the first time, and I cannot do so now. It is not my purview.”

  She was getting sick of that word.

  “I see,” she said. “Costin’s done, and you’re looking for another person to step in and fight the dragon for round two.”

  “Not precisely. Dawn, you can expel it yourself, without any deals.”

  What?

  Should she get a knife and start cutting?

  “Dawn,” The Whisper said, “once you accept that this is a choice for you, you will see that all is not lost.”

  Okay then—she could control this like she’d controlled the postvampire darkness in her? Yeah, that’d work out.

  He added, “Costin took what I gave him and used it properly. He could have become as terrible as the dragon, yet he did not.”

  A quiver wracked Dawn—one that trembled up from the bottom of her and threatened to do the worst thing she could think of. Make her cry. Sob at the unfairness of this. She’d never asked for power, and even with what she’d already been given with the psychokinesis that’d grown and grown in her, she wasn’t sure she could ever use it in the right way.

  All she knew was that, with Costin around, she’d had a conscience. He’d been her conscience. And without him here, she might fall into some kind of void.

  She asked, “Why isn’t Costin here to tell me this himself?”

  “Yes,” Jonah said. “Bring him back. I offer my body again—he can have it.”

  The Whisper seemed to pity Jonah. “You must understand that Costin is so near his peace. He has been caught between that and making certain Dawn is secured. Yet she has kept the monster at bay, and the dragon has been as good as buried. As Dawn mentioned, Costin did slay it, after all, and he technically completed his contract with me. He is deserving of his reward, and for you to call on him now is to distance him further from fulfillment. His soul cries to go to that light you humans speak of so fondly, and it would pain him to be pulled away from it.”

  Jonah said, “Don’t you think it’s paining him now to see what’s happening to Dawn?”

  “Jo
nah,” she said, harshly chiding him, even as she was thinking that if she could manage the dragon and find a way to banish it in the end, all on her own, she’d do it. She wouldn’t pull Costin out, even if she wanted him to come back. She’d kept him alive once and learned that it’d been partly out of selfishness. Twice was unthinkable. This was eternity they were talking about and, no matter how much it killed her, she wouldn’t deny him that.

  Right?

  “I can do this on my own,” Dawn said. She sounded so tough, but she was disintegrating inside. “Costin can’t be called back.”

  But could she do this? Without him?

  “Very well,” The Whisper said.

  “I just won’t kill anymore,” she said fervently. “I won’t want to do it, and I’ll stop with the mind puppeting. That’ll mean the dragon won’t be attracted to any darkness. I can keep him out of my soul stain for as long as it takes.”

  But, even now, she could feel that dragon burn regrouping in her. What would happen if, one day, she strayed from her determination and it got where it wanted to go?

  She realized there was a better way to make sure the dragon never came out—a way that would make Costin go to that light and keep them all safe at the same time.

  With all the guts she had in her, she turned to Natalia. No other person at this table would put their emotions aside, suck it up, and do what needed to be done.

  “Get a machete and a flamethrower,” she said, her voice so far removed that she didn’t even recognize it as hers. But it was.

  It had to be her who initiated the only option left.

  Jonah was half out of his seat, still holding hands with the new girl and Kiko, refusing to break the chain. “Natalia, if you do, you won’t ever be able to hold a weapon again.”

  Natalia glared at him. “Oh, so you can fight the dragon if it should come out, can you?”

  They’d taught her well. She was a real hunter.

  “Costin can take care of this,” Jonah said, appealing straight to Dawn. “He wouldn’t even have to slay you. He has his ways—The Whisper gave him the means to deal with it.” Jonah shot Whisper Kiko a jaded look. “In his own indirect way.”