Beneath Blood and Bone

by Madeline Sheehan

  Slipping an arm around his wife’s waist, Jonah pulled her close and nuzzled against her neck. Alice relaxed into his embrace and closed her eyes, a happy smile lifting her lips.

  I watched them intently, fascinated by their relationship. Alice was much younger than Jonah. I hadn’t asked her, but I guessed she was in her late twenties, maybe early thirties, while Jonah could easily be in his fifties or even sixties. His thinning hair was nearly all white, an odd match with his only slightly graying beard. Yet even with their significant age difference, there was nothing perverted about them. What they had was real; it was pure and beautiful, and lovely to watch.

  “What kind of medicine do you need?” I asked.

  Jonah shook his head. “Could do with some devil’s claw for the inflammation, but that sort of plant is rare around here, mostly found in the southwest. And we don’t have the resources to travel that far.”

  “Devil’s claw?” I grimaced, not liking the sound of it.

  “They wouldn’t let you travel that far,” Alice added somberly. “Not being the only doctor.”

  Jonah pulled his wife closer and wrapped his arms around her belly. “I’ve taught you everything I know. When I’m gone, darling, you’ll make a right fine doctor.”

  Alice scoffed, but her eyes shone with happiness. “A nurse at best,” she teased.

  Although their moment felt private, I couldn’t help it; I found myself smiling along with them. They loved each other despite everything, despite this world and all it was lacking. Somehow these two people had found each other in the midst of a nightmare, and had made it work.

  “We should send out another team,” Jonah murmured. “There has to be more.”

  “More?” I asked.

  Alice smiled at me. “We found a patch of it a few years back, and since then Jonah’s been adamant that there’s more.”

  “What does it look like?” I asked, curious.

  “Like a devil’s claw reaching for you!” Jonah spun Alice around in his arms, bringing them face-to-face.

  Giggling, she pushed him away. “It does not,” she said, chastising him gently. “It looks more like a crayfish with two long antennae.”

  My eyes widened. I was almost certain I’d seen it before, or at least something that fit that description. Just outside my cave, at the bottom of the ravine, there’d been a few times I’d had something just like it stuck to my sneakers.

  Excited, I exclaimed, “I think I’ve seen it!”

  The couple turned to gape at me.

  “Are you serious?” Jonah asked. Moving away from Alice, he headed to his small bookcase, grazing his fingertips along the spines as he hummed under his breath. When he found what he was looking for, he pulled a small battered book free and thumbed through the pages.

  “This?” He faced the open book in my direction. “Is this what you’ve seen?”

  It was nearly exactly what I had seen. Grinning, I nodded happily.

  “Can you take me there?” he asked, excitement shining in his eyes. “Tomorrow? The guards won’t let us leave on our own, so we’ll have plenty of backup. I promise you’ll be safe.”

  About to answer, to tell him yes, of course I would show him where I’d seen it, I suddenly froze, realizing what I’d done. Those plants grew wild in the ravine near my cave, my home, the place I was desperate to return to. If I showed them my home, surely I’d never be able to go back there. It would never be safe again.

  I blinked, and the sinking feeling in my gut eased as I realized the opportunity that came with Jonah’s offer. I would get to leave Purgatory, be outside the gates once again, and once we were near my cave, I could slip away. I knew every inch of that ravine, all the best hiding places. They wouldn’t search for me forever, would they? I doubted it. I was no one to them, just some girl Eagle had branded, and of no use anymore.

  “Yes,” I whispered. “Of course I’ll show you.”

  “I’ll speak with Jeffers now,” Jonah announced, grinning broadly. “You wait here, darling,” he said to Alice. “It’s nearly dark, and I don’t want you out there this late.” Giving his wife’s hand a quick squeeze, he headed for the door.

  Mere moments after it had closed behind him, it opened again and Eagle appeared in the doorway. Stepping into the small room, his ever-present frown firmly in place, he looked from Alice to me.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Of course,” Alice said. “She did wonderful today. We’re lucky to have her.”

  “Ready to go home?” he asked.

  Home. I had two homes now, didn’t I? One where I had no one and nothing, and the other where I had Eagle. A pang of regret speared me. Yes, I had Eagle, but I also had all the problems that came with him. The biggest one being Liv.

  “Ready,” I replied softly as I slipped down off the stool. I offered Alice a small smile, thanking her as I passed by.

  As I entered the hallway with Eagle on my heels, he suddenly grabbed my hand, nearly crushing it in his grip. Startled, I looked up at him, but only for a moment as he held it and continued walking, paying me no attention. Hurrying to keep up with him, I pressed my lips together, stifling a smile.

  And we stayed like that, hand in hand, neither of us speaking the entire walk home.

  • • •

  It was warm inside, warmer than usual. Sprawled on the couch, I longed for more than just a few open windows. The cave had always been particularly cool at night, sometimes too cool, but never this suffocating during the day.

  But I shouldn’t be complaining. The season had already changed; the days were growing shorter, the sun not quite as warm, and winter would soon be upon us. Southern winters might not be as bad as northern winters, but after an especially hot summer and fall while living inside a cave, I’d always felt the cold twice as much.

  Except, I had a choice this winter, didn’t I? I didn’t have to live in a cave, didn’t have to be alone. I didn’t have to slip away from Jonah and the guards tomorrow. I could come back here, back to Eagle.

  Because, sweet thing, this is exactly what’s going to happen to you.

  At the thought of Liv, a full-bodied shiver racked my overheated body. Who was I kidding? I couldn’t stay here. The longer I stayed here, the more danger I was in.

  Glancing around the room, I found Eagle’s bedroom door still shut, the familiar thump-thump of his fists hitting his punching bag bouncing off the walls. I rolled off the couch and tiptoed across the room to press my ear to his door. Thump-thump-thump. His punches were louder than usual, full of anger and aggression.

  The door was missing a knob and riddled with cracks, so I gave it a gentle push, cringing as it let out a soft squealing protest. I waited a moment, listening for the thumps to stop, and when they didn’t, I peeked my head around the door frame.

  The room was nearly black, the windows closed and the makeshift curtains pulled tight. What few slivers of light that shone through showcased Eagle in the center of the room. Shirtless, barefoot, and wearing only a pair of loose-fitting pants, he was still angrily working over his punching bag. Bouncing on his feet, he danced around the bag, the force of his fists causing it to jerk in all directions. Every punch sent up a ripple on the skin and muscle of his thick, tattooed arms, and a spray of sweat flying from his soaked hair.

  Utterly focused and determined, so in tune with his own body, in that moment he resembled an apex predator, striking and beautifully dangerous.

  Over and over again, my gaze traveled the length of him, stopping and staring in awe at the most magnificent parts. His hard-edged jaw, clenched with such force, every dominant muscle in his torso, the beautiful eagle painted over his body’s hypnotizing hills and valleys, drawing me an impressive map that stopped at his waist.

  I wasn’t quite sure what to do with how I was feeling. It had been such a slow build that I hadn’t even realized it was happening, not until he’d taken my hand in his without me prompting him to do so. It was a gesture that had surpassed his promise of pr
otection, making this something altogether different.

  I flushed with heat even as a shiver raked its way up and down both my arms. It had been a long time since I’d had feelings such as these, feelings I wasn’t even sure I wanted to put a name to. Back then, when I’d still been Autumn, I’d been just a girl and my boyfriend had been just a boy. We’d been curious teenagers together, exploring each other’s bodies, learning them, learning what we liked and what we didn’t.

  This wasn’t that.

  This was so very different. These feelings were different.

  Because Eagle wasn’t a boy. Eagle was most definitely not a boy.

  I could hear my father now, warning me about men, to stay away from them, to avoid them at all costs. They only want one thing, he’d said, and they’d do whatever it took to get it.

  But what if it was the other way around? What if it was me who was wanting?

  Catching my eye, Eagle paused in mid-swing and let his fists drop to his side. Squaring his shoulders, he turned to face me.

  And just like that, my father’s voice faded away, back into the past where it belonged. I wasn’t a child anymore; I wasn’t a curious teenager. I was a woman now, and even as inexperienced as I was, I was a woman. I could feel that truth, see it in the eyes of the man staring back at me.

  “Squirrel?” he asked cautiously, his voice rough with exertion.

  I couldn’t stop staring at him. He should frighten me, he had frightened me, but I wasn’t scared anymore. I was something else entirely. The longer I stared, the more still he became, until the question faded from his expression and he was staring back at me with an intensity that caused heat to blossom low in my belly. My lips parted of their own accord and I sucked in a sharp breath.

  I could stay like this forever, I thought, standing here and staring at him, a million things left unsaid between us. I didn’t need words because I had this feeling, and it was by far the best and the most exhilarating feeling I’d experienced in a very long time.

  Eagle looked away first, lowering his gaze to the floor. It was strange because it wasn’t something he did—looking away. This man was fierce and violent; he didn’t shy away from things, didn’t cower or hide. He was the dominant one, a man people feared.

  That meant something; it had to. But I didn’t know what.

  His head was hung low to his chest, his shoulders hunched as if they felt heavy and leaden, when he started across the room. My breath caught, and my heartbeat stuttered. He was coming toward me. He was coming toward me.

  And as he reached me, he passed right by me, leaving me with only a brush of his arm against my shoulder as he entered the outer room. On purpose or accidentally, I wasn’t sure which, but his touch left me with a flooding warmth, and I felt fuller than I could ever remember feeling.

  I turned on my bare heel, my gaze following as he crossed the room. Grabbing one of several jugs of water, he emptied it into the plastic sink and gripped the edges, then dunked his head inside. Water sloshed over the sides, and the room lapsed into silence as I waited for him to reemerge.

  Seconds passed, minutes, and after what felt like far too long, I took several wary steps toward him. “Eagle!” I called out, the hair on my arms standing on end. “Eagle!”

  He pulled his head free, gasping for air, coughing and spitting while water sprayed in every direction. Standing up straight, he pounded on his chest, his breathing ragged and pained. My heart pounded as I watched him and I stood frozen in place, unsure of what to say or do.

  Reaching over the sink, he pulled a small blade off a nearby stack of boxes and gripped it tightly in his fist. Facing the wall, he raised the blade, the expression on his face one of utter despair.

  “No!” I screamed, and bolted forward.

  He paused, turning to look at me just as I reached him and with both hands grabbed hold of his arm, ready to wrestle the blade free if I had to.

  “Just cutting my hair, Squirrel,” he said, his gravelly voice tired and weak. “It’s too fucking long.”

  With his other hand, he gestured to his head. His Mohawk was overgrown and hanging long down one side of his face.

  Relief flooded me as I released him, and I swallowed hard. He glanced down at his arm, at the places where my fingertips had left fleeting impressions overtop the numerous tattoos there.

  “I can help,” I said, still concerned that maybe something wasn’t quite right with him. “Let me help you.”

  Eagle barked out a laugh, a surprising sound that had me taking a step backward. “You want me to give you a blade, Squirrel, and leave myself at your mercy?”

  I stared up at him, shocked. “I would never hurt you,” I whispered, taken aback not only by his mistrust, but by the fact that I’d said those words aloud.

  Eagle seemed just as surprised as I was, the humor in his eyes waning as his stare darkened and intensified. “Wouldn’t you?” he said quietly.

  My chest expanded as a constricting, yet heady sensation rippled just beneath my skin and tears pricked my eyes. For some reason, I was overcome.

  “Never,” I said softly, and I meant it. I trusted him implicitly. I didn’t know why or how, or even when it happened, but it had, and what was the point in hiding it? I wanted him to know, and I wanted him to feel the same. Did he feel the same?

  I got my answer when he handed me the blade. Swallowing, I took it from him, our fingers touching briefly as a sizzle of something warm burned between us. But not nearly as warm as the look in his eyes.

  “What do you want me to do?” I asked.

  He took a heavy breath and dropped his shoulders like a broken old man. “Take it all off. Just get rid of everything.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Eagle

  “I’ve never done this before,” Autumn said in a nervous voice, a slight tremor in her hand as she tentatively ran her fingers through my wet hair.

  I’d figured as much. I also figured on getting nicked a time or two, but I hadn’t been able to help myself. What she’d said . . .

  I’d never hurt you.

  Those were powerful words, especially uttered during a time when everyone was out for themselves. This world was kill or be killed, survival of the fittest, do it or die trying. Which made her words even more powerful than my promise to protect her.

  But it wasn’t just the words, it was the person who’d spoken them and the true conviction I’d heard behind them. It was . . . it fucking moved me.

  And because she moved me, I wanted her hands on me, I wanted her close to me, touching me, even if that meant I was going to lose bits of my scalp in the process.

  “Don’t cut close,” I told her. “Just cut the length. Saw it off like you would a piece of meat, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

  She drew herself closer to where I was seated, and her chest grazed my bare back. Again she ran her fingers through my hair, her nails lightly scouring my scalp as she pulled the hair back. It was nothing, simply light touches, but fuck, they sent sparks of sensation shooting through me to the point of sensory overload. And I knew if I wasn’t careful, I was going to do something stupid. Stupid like grab her and . . .

  And then what? Then what the fuck did I do?

  I didn’t know what the hell to do with her. She was unlike anything I’d ever encountered before, or had even wanted.

  Not true, the voice whispered. Not true at all.

  That’s different, I snapped. You were different.

  Was I? The voice laughed, a genuine and happy laugh. I was younger than her when we married. I was shy and naive.

  Also different, I bit out. I was a kid too.

  Autumn started to cut, tugging hard on my hair as she did, and although the voice fell silent, my thoughts continued. Maybe she wasn’t exactly unlike anything I’d ever wanted. I had wanted a girl once, a beautiful girl with red hair and bright blue eyes, with a smile that was both sweet and sexy as hell. She’d been innocent too, a virgin in every sense of the word. I’d been her
first kiss, her first boyfriend, the first and only man to ever be inside her, the only man to marry her, and the father of both her children.

  But that was then and this was a different world. Maybe I deserved a girl like that back then, back before I’d become . . . whatever the fuck I had become.

  She wants you, the voice said. You saw the way she was looking at you.

  She’s an idiot, I growled, watching as a long lock of my hair tumbled down my chest and broke apart in my lap. And insane. Remember? She smears her own shit on herself.

  She’s a survivor, the voice argued. And one who doesn’t put her own needs before others’.

  You’re an idiot, I spat back.

  The voice laughed long and hard. Yes, you are.

  “Done,” Autumn said, moving around to my front and peering down at me. A small smile lifted her lips, a genuine look of amusement transforming her features. “It looks horrible,” she said, choking back laughter.

  I ran my hand over the top of my head and snorted. “I bet.”

  Holding out my hand, I gestured for her to hand over the blade. And when she did, instead of taking it from her, I encircled her wrist with my fingers and pulled her forward. She let out a small gasp and the knife slipped from her grip, clattering to the floor. For a moment, I only stared down at her wrist, at the replica of my eagle branded onto her skin. My eagle. My brand. My . . . Autumn.

  Spreading my knees, I pulled her even closer, my gaze traveling up her body and stopping when I reached her face. What the fuck was I doing? I knew, and at the same time I really didn’t. I was winging it, playing it by ear, basing it off both what I wanted and her reactions.

  “Your hair,” she whispered, swallowing hard. She looked terrified. Fucking petrified. And also not terrified. Excited maybe?

  “I’ll take care of it later,” I muttered. Releasing her wrist, I took hold of her waist, one hand on each hip. And goddamn, my fingers twitched and my fingertips dug in, pressing through the thin cotton of her pants, feeling the softness that lay beneath.