A Banshee's Tale

by Veronica Breville

  It was bliss.

  In my free time, which was sorely limited, I began thinking about the excitement of the previous ten months. I quickly remembered the dream that had plagued me for so long and realized that I hadn’t had it the entire time I had been training.

  As if I jinxed myself with my thoughts of the dream that night I had it again. This time it was so real that I woke up screaming and shaking, as did the rest of the house.

  In a wave of incomprehensible noise and chaos, everyone ran to my room and all but threw the door from its hinges to see what was wrong with me. Aunt Lucie was first on the scene. She could tell by the terrified look on my face that something was more wrong than anyone else could imagine.

  It took an award-winning performance by me to keep my mother from camping out in my room for the remainder of the night, but I needed desperately to talk to Aunt Lucie, alone. Mom was dealing with enough pain and torment at the time, and she didn’t need to know that my new life was wreaking havoc on my sleep, as well.

  “Aunt Lucie, have you ever had a dream that you were sure was connected to you being a Guide?” I asked after the rest of my family had returned to their respective rooms. I tried to keep the fear out of my voice.

  “No. Why, have you?” she replied, thoughtfully pulling my tangled hair out of my eyes.

  “I think so... no, I’m sure it’s related, but I’ve been having the dream since I was like five.” I reached for my journal on the bedside table. “Here, read this. It doesn’t have all the details, but I can fill you in if I can remember them,” I said, handing her the book.

  Aunt Lucie proceeded to read all the passages containing the dream with an occasional “hmm” or “that’s interesting,” but I couldn’t get a read on her face. When she was finished, she put the book on the bed between us and looked at me. As our eyes met, I caught her thought before she could block me: This couldn’t be related to the missing one, could it?

  Before I could catch more, she blocked her thoughts and shut me out of her head.

  Not caring about her reaction to a question I was sure she didn’t want to hear, I asked, “Who is the missing one?”

  “No one you need concern yourself with right now. I will see what I can do to help you sleep more soundly. You’ll need all your wits for the last part of your training.”

  Could she be any more vague?

  Knowing I wouldn’t get any more information about the “missing one” from my aunt, I turned my attention back to my mangled covers, smoothing them over my bed. I lay down and concentrated on the mental picture of the rolling hills near my home to ease my mind. Waving prairie grass, chirping bugs, warm sun glowing overhead...

  Monday morning seemed to come much too soon. I hadn’t set my alarm in the blurry haze of the night before. It was hard enough just to make it to my bed after my training. Thankfully, my dad had thought to wake me up before he left. I awoke to the sound of his loud tapping on my door, followed by a voice that was slightly louder than a whisper calling my name. Sitting up, I stretched and rolled off the bed, immediately beginning my search for something comfy to wear. It was the first day of summer break and my first day back at Kansas State University’s Large Animal Veterinary Research Ranch, my summer job since I was twelve... “unofficially,” of course.

  My father had been heading up the university’s bovine research at the ranch since he and my mother moved to Council Grove. He had his degree in veterinary medicine but preferred to find cures for the various diseases that affected millions of head of cattle every year. Needless to say, he loved his job and ever since I was old enough to follow him, I had wanted to be a part of it.

  Seeing an opportunity to teach his children about responsibility while also fostering a love of science and animals, Dad offered each of us the job of mucking out stalls once a week when we turned twelve. We made twenty dollars a week and had the opportunity to do it every summer if we wanted. I was the only one that stuck with it, and over the years it had morphed into what it was today. I was the ranch’s “do anything” girl, and I knew as much about the way everything ran as most of the students. Officially, my main job at the ranch was to clean the exam stalls and help hay and feed the cattle. Last summer, I had “unofficially” become the office girl as well. I had a feeling that my ability to drive would add one more title to my growing resume: gopher. Oh well, as long as I stayed busy and made money.

  Mom had my breakfast ready and a lunch packed for me as I dashed through the kitchen to the back door. I gave her a quick peck on the cheek, grabbed my food, and sprinted to my car. Just as I was getting in, she called to me and ran out with my father’s lunch. Laughing, she asked me to deliver it for her. There might have also been a mention about my father leaving various important body parts behind if they weren’t attached. Shaking my head, I backed out of the drive and waved, feeling happy to get back to a place I enjoyed working.

  The drive took about twenty minutes, and as I pulled into the parking lot in front of the main barn, I saw my dad’s most loyal research student, Claire. She walked toward the row of barns but suddenly stopped and whistled, giving me a thumbs up after pointing to my new car. Biting back a very dopey grin, I waved and shook my head. Adjusting my ball cap, I opened the door and took a little bow as she walked off laughing at my antics. Even with a late start, my morning seemed to be going very well.

  “Reporting for duty!” I giggled, handing my father the lunch he had forgotten at home.

  “Cheeky, Catherine. Glad you made it.” He glanced at his watch and smiled. “You aren’t even late.” He acted as though I was somehow chronically late, psh. “I need you to go to barn three and help Zane with the calves. He’s trying to draw some blood for a routine screening.”

  I looked at my father strangely, wondering whom he was talking about. I knew all the students on the ranch because he talked about them at home daily. He’d never mentioned a Zane.

  “Who?” I wrinkled my nose as I continued to stare at him.

  “Oh, sorry. Too busy this morning.” Dad rubbed his hands over his face roughly. “Brain isn’t where it should be. He’s the one in the lab coat, kind of tall with light hair. Claire knows who he is. I’ll have her take you out there,” he said absentmindedly, once again trying to straighten the crooked piles of paper littering his desk.

  Once satisfied with the state of organization in front of him he called into his walkie-talkie, “Claire, can you take Catherine to help Zane, please?”

  The crackle of the device made me wince before I heard Claire answer. “But of course. Anything for the best boss in the universe.” Her giggling voice brought a smile to my face. My dad sighed and shook his head.

  “I see this is going to be a grand summer all together, huh? Thanks, Claire.”

  “Go wait outside. She’ll be around in a minute. Oh, and be sure to keep your hair covered today. Don’t want to scare the students.” He grinned and chuckled at my disgruntled look at the mention of my flaming hair. It had gotten better over the past few months and Aunt Lucie said the effect would end completely unless I was upset. That information took the idea of being a hot head to an all new level for me.

  “Okay, Mr. Best Boss in the Universe.” I laughed and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before turning for the door.

  It didn’t take Claire long to find me. As she began leading me to the barn, she started talking feverishly. “Okay, Cat, when you see this guy, be sure to close your mouth. You will not believe how stunning he is. Seriously, I don’t think I have ever seen a guy this attractive before, and I spent six months surrounded by amazingly beautiful Scottish men!” Claire had just returned from an exchange program that allowed her to study abroad in the highlands of Scotland for six months. I’d received a few letters while she was gone, all of them highlighting the wonders of the local parade of men.

  “Oh, right.” I gave a humorless ch
uckle. This was typical Claire. “But it would take a lot for me to think he’s cute. You are the girl who fell in love with every single one of my brothers, proclaiming they were each the yummiest thing since apple pie, and those were your exact words... each time,” I finished with a tone of disbelief and sarcasm.

  “You just wait. He’s not like anyone you have ever or, quite possibly, will ever see again. Swoon worthy, my friend.” She waggled her eyebrows quickly and left it at that.

  I followed the rest of the way with a wry grin on my face. Claire was the epitome of a love-struck woman. Every man she met that had even an ounce of attractiveness was the most captivating person in her universe. My expectations weren’t very high as we entered the building. I spied the “swoon worthy” man with his back to us. He was hunched over a small worktable looking through various files. I stifled a giggle as I noticed two large dusty handprints on the portion of his lab coat that covered his bottom. It was good to know he wasn’t some citified pretty boy who didn’t like getting dirty, at least. Claire saw, too, and smiled before alerting him to our presence.

  She cleared her throat to get his attention. As he turned, I sucked in a quick breath and blinked rapidly. “Zane Laroche, this is Professor Dalry’s daughter and our summer help, Catherine. Catherine, this is Zane Laroche.” Her introduction was short, and when I looked up, I realized that, for once, Claire was not exaggerating.

  This man was gorgeous and not the “run of the mill Hollywood” gorgeous, but rather the kind that literally belonged in some steamy romance novel. He had honey-blond hair that was just long enough to show some loose curl. It sat atop his head like a slightly tarnished halo. His heavenly hair set off the deepest, most amazing jade green eyes I had ever seen. His face shone with a breathtaking brilliance, accentuating his square jaw and high cheekbones. He was tall, and from what I could tell—which wasn’t much because he was wearing a lab coat—he was quite muscular. I was sure I had never seen such an astounding looking man. Until that moment, I had never believed one could actually exist.

  Standing there dumbly, I continued to stare, not considering how completely idiotic I must have looked.

  Oh goodness. Is it possible for a man to be beautiful?

  “Ahhh, Miss Dalry?” His soft, deep voice broke into my thoughts. I realized, with shocking warmth, I had been staring at him with my mouth indeed hanging open.

  “Oh, sorry.” I snapped my mouth shut, shook my head, and tried desperately to still my trembling hands. “Yes, my dad... I mean Professor Dalry asked me to come help you with the blood draws,” I blurted, tripping over each syllable. At the same time, I was trying to pull my thoughts to the task at hand. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Yeah, okay.” He huffed and raised his brow. Did I sense irritation in his voice? “Go get a lab coat on, kid. I’ll have you hand me what I need,” he said dismissively.

  Did he just call me “kid?”

  Though he was the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on, he was also quickly shaping up to be the most arrogant ass I had ever had the displeasure of meeting.

  What did I know about handsome anyway?

  It wasn’t like I had been far from home, and the boys in Council Grove were of the average variety, with the exception of Will. I could never think of Will in a romantic way without grossing myself out. Just the thought brought on a violent shiver.

  I retrieved the coat and added latex gloves, trying to prove my knowledge in regards to the work done at the ranch. I retreated to his side and did my best to attain any composure. He continually barked at me as he worked when he needed a vial or a new needle, and I wondered how I had ever thought his voice was soft.

  He’s beginning to irritate me, and that was difficult to do to a girl raised with four brothers.

  After ten minutes of commands, I decided to be the bigger person and tried to start a conversation. Maybe he was just as nervous as I was. We just had a rough start, I thought.

  “So, Claire mentioned you were from the east coast. Where did you do your undergrad?” That seemed like a harmless question.

  “UNC, but I grew up in Baltimore. Hand me another vial,” he said, never losing the monotone cadence he seemed to favor.

  “I hear North Carolina is beautiful.” My frustration was growing at an alarming rate.

  “I suppose,” he said as we walked to the next stall. He turned to look at me. “Are you trying to make small talk because you are actually interested or because you are making an attempt to flirt with me? I should tell you that I don’t date, or even entertain the idea of dating, children.”

  Holy cow! His audacity caused me to drop the unused vial in my hand and clench my jaw. Well, that solidified his position as the most arrogant ass I had ever met. I raised my brow and shot him a look that was meant to make him feel my wrath, but it didn’t seem to have any effect at all. “Neither. I just thought that maybe your pissy attitude had to do with you being nervous, and I thought starting a conversation would help. I can see I was wrong, so I’ll shut up and just do my job.” I added after a quick breath, “Just so we’re clear, I am not a child and the idea of hitting on you is physically repulsive!” That came out much angrier than I had planned, but it seemed to hit home with him.

  “Fine, Miss Dalry, fine. I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to do my job and work on my thesis,” he whispered with an air of regret. With that our conversation was officially over.

  I avoided being in the vicinity of Mr. Laroche as much as I could. I even took orders for lunch just to be away in case he needed something. Thankfully, our paths didn’t cross again. When I slid into my car at five o’clock, I could finally breathe easy.

  Never before had anyone intrigued and irritated me at the same time. I recalled our conversation and found my thoughts stubbornly lingered on his face. Admittedly, he had the most intense green eyes I had ever seen and his face seemed chiseled out of granite, but his personality was insufferable.

  Hitting on him—whatever! Oh, and “kid”? That was original. I’d show him kid. Just let him utter one more rude word in my direction, and he would see what this kid could do.

  After some deep breathing and very loud, off key singing in my car, I had calmed down, but I still couldn’t get his face out of my head. I felt stiff and slightly off kilter as I walked into my house.

  What the heck is going on with me?

  To occupy myself, I started helping Mom with dinner. It wasn’t that I didn’t normally help her out, because I did. It was our time to talk and connect. However, normally, I was a ball of talkative energy, so after ten minutes had passed in which I’d only uttered a quick hello, she knew something was up. It was days like this that I longed to have a mother who was oblivious to the slight emotional clues I let slip.

  “Hard first day?” I could see her peek at me out of the corner of her eye as she washed her hands.

  “Sort of. The new guy, Mr. Laroche, is going to be fun to work with,” I replied with a sarcastic snap.

  “Dad mentioned he was a little severe but that he came with amazing references. Just try to avoid him, okay? Lucie is in the living room.” She turned and leaned on the sink, putting her hand over mine and squeezing gently. “You’re still in training, remember. Maybe you should try to occupy yourself with that instead of peeling my potatoes into oblivion,” she said, taking the potato I was peeling out of my hand and sending me on my way.

  My aunt was sitting on the floor in my room surrounded by pictures and papers.

  “What’s all this?”

  “Some research. I think I might have some more info for you about your dream,” she said as she motioned to the spot of cleared floor beside her. “You see, your description of the girl and the house in your dream made me think of a story Julia had told me shortly after I began my training. It was in the early 1900’s. There was a family in a small commu
nity in Maine who had no idea about their ancestry. Theirs was a unique family even in our circle. The husband’s family was descended from an ancient people like ours, Guides, but he was orphaned at an early age and knew little about them. He met and married a young woman whose family was gifted as well, although she, too, was ignorant of her family’s history. Her people were Caomhnóirs: men and women whose purpose it was to protect the most talented Guides. Together they had a baby girl with a Guide’s eyes and a Caomhnóir’s mind, although they were ignorant to this fact. They were taken aback by their child’s strange eyes but quickly became accustomed to them. Time went on and the child grew into a beautiful little girl with a sharp mind and loving spirit. Their lives were simple and wonderful until the day she disappeared. They never found her, but in their search they found their true families and realized that their combined ancestry had condemned their daughter to a life stolen by the Badbeh. The demons, knowing that she could destroy them, would have never allowed her to live. No one has ever found a trace of her other than the doll she had with her that day... Its eyes had been torn off. You and your friend are the first I know of to have had dreams of her.” Throughout her story, I was riveted, eyes fixed on the papers in front of us.

  “So... you... think... You think I’ve been dreaming of her?”

  “Everything you tell me, including your feeling that this is somehow related to being a Guide, makes me think it is. All the pieces fit. Now we just have to figure out what it means and why Will has had the same dream,” she said, chewing on the end of the pencil.

  “I haven’t been completely open with you about Will. He has a gift, too, I think. Something like clairvoyance, maybe.” When I said the words aloud, I had that sick feeling in my stomach again, like I needed to vomit. My dreams had much more significance than I had expected, if what my aunt believed was true. To top off that dreadful point, now my best friend, my only real friend, had been pulled into the mess. My aunt’s voice brought me back from my reflection and into the conversation.