Friction (The Frenzy Series Book 4)

by Casey L. Bond

  “Easy,” Ford said with authority. The horse knew who his master was. He knew Ford would take care of him. There was a trust between them.

  “Do you feel okay?” Porschia asked as she stepped up beside me. Tage wasn’t with her.

  “I do, but why does everyone keep asking me that? Are you okay?” She looked well. She looked beautiful, actually. Her dark hair was braided down her back and she wore a white dress, fitted to her body’s curves. Those were becoming more pronounced, and I wasn’t sure if it was nature or if being changed suited her.

  “I need to apologize to you. I didn’t think.”

  “About?”

  “I was worried that you might be hurt from...feeding from me. My blood.”

  I shook my head. “I feel fine.”

  “You’re sure?” she asked, studying my face.

  “I’m positive. The hunger abated for a little while.” That was it. And I didn’t tell her this, but I knew the risk and took it anyway, simply because she asked. I didn’t think anything would happen and nothing did. If I had been human and drank a drop of her blood? Well, that may have ended badly, but fortunately I was already changed.

  She turned her attention to the people in the valley below. “Almost home.”

  “You are.”

  Her eyes closed tightly. “I’ll see if my father can help.”

  “We both know he can’t.”

  She smiled slightly. “Maybe I’ll leave, too.”

  I shook my head. “You’re needed there. You’re wanted.”

  “I don’t know if I want to be,” she said honestly. There was a long pause between us. “Most of the time, I feel like a threat. They aren’t afraid of us now, but they should be.”

  “I didn’t know how bad the hunger was. I felt hunger as an Infected, but it was more pain and a desperation to ease it. It wasn’t this,” I gestured to my stomach, “all-consuming, damned feeling you can’t get rid of.”

  “Are you going to turn back? We should find an Infected as soon as possible.”

  “Not yet,” I answered, shoving my fists in my pocket. “I will one day, but not yet.”

  “You don’t have to stay a night-walker. Not for anyone or anything. I shouldn’t have asked you to stay one until you got somewhere safe. I had no right,” she said.

  “You have every right,” I said, grabbing her elbow and turning her to face me. “You have every right in the world.”

  She shook her head. “It was selfish. If you want to ease the hunger, you should change back.”

  “But that’s the thing, Porschia. There’s hunger no matter what you are. The humans have enough to eat, too. And... there are worse types of hunger than what I’m experiencing right now. This is bad, but it’s nothing in the grand scheme of things.”

  I saw her swallow. She pulled her arm away from me slowly.

  “You should come with us. No one will notice if you ride in the wagon and then run to Roman’s or our house.”

  “You’re living with Tage?” I asked incredulously. This was the hunger. I wanted her, but I couldn’t have her. He was always in the way.

  “Next to Roman. If our house is still ours,” she added softly.

  “And you want me to what? Live with the two of you? I couldn’t stand it. I don’t know if I could stand hearing you two even from the forest.” My hearing was acute. I would be able to hear them if I wanted to, and I don’t think I could stop myself from searching her out. And him with her? It would kill me.

  “It doesn’t have to be like this,” she pleaded, tears clogging her throat.

  “Doesn’t it? You made a choice.”

  “So did you,” she raised her voice, exasperated.

  “And here we go again, stuck in a never-ending spiral, and the only way we can go is down. Well, I can’t do this. I’ll stay around until the dust settles and then I’m gone. I’m not crossing the boundary, either.”

  “Will you let me know when you’re going?”

  The tips of my fangs ground into my bottom lip, piercing it. “Fine.”

  I wasn’t above eavesdropping, especially when it came to Saul Daniels. Porschia didn’t trust Delilah. I didn’t trust Saul. Simple as that. When I heard him say he would leave after the dust settled, I wanted to give him a slow clap. Best judgment call ever. And add my kudos for not moving in with us against the council’s wishes. That, too, deserved applause.

  He’d be out of my hair soon enough, and with him gone, Porschia could fully move on and heal. I’d help her with that. The day he left couldn’t come quickly enough.

  She came back to me, never mentioning her conversation with him, and I didn’t ask. “Feeling okay?” I tried to smile.

  “Yeah, I’m looking forward to going home. I want to see Father and Maggie and Mercedes.” Today she looked like she had herself together. I wondered how long it would last.

  Ford called out, “I guess I’m chopped liver?”

  “And you, dear brother,” she added with a giggle. “How could I leave you out?”

  He grumbled along playfully, and it seemed like a heavy fog had finally lifted from over everyone’s heads the closer we drew to Blackwater. People laughed. Children played. The cloudy remnants of last night’s storm were emptied from the sky and only vibrant blue remained overhead.

  The carpenters had made a crossing large enough and strong enough to hold the full wagon. Roman and Tage lowered it into place and tested its weight. Saul was in the forest, watching us from above. Sadness and anger wafted from him. When we crossed over, Mercedes and Father found Ford and me, enveloping us in hugs. “You look great,” I told my sister.

  “You do, too,” she lied.

  Father brushed the “mist” from his eyes after greeting me. “It’s been too long. I was worried.”

  True to my word, I would talk with him. “Father, there’s something I need to discuss with you.”

  “Ford already mentioned Saul. I’ve taken it to the council and we are waiting for their decision. Until it’s made, he has to stay out of the Colony.”

  I nodded. “I understand.”

  “Regardless,” he whispered, “his parents will go see him this evening.”

  “Do they know he’s changed?”

  He blew out a breath. “Yes, so perhaps they’ll offer to feed him as well.”

  “I want to go with him. His control is wavering.”

  Father nodded. “That would be wise. For now, though, I think you need to visit Maggie.”

  “Why?” my heart thundered in warning.

  “She’s ill and even she doesn’t think her body will recover from this.” Hearing his words was like taking a hard blow to the back. All breath left my body.

  “I need to go now,” I choked out. Father nodded knowingly. Mercedes called out for me but I was already running, leaving them behind to make sure the people arrived safely. Avoiding people as best I could, I ran so fast the surroundings blurred, or maybe it was the red tears clouding my vision. I couldn’t lose Maggie. I hadn’t been gone that long. How could she get so sick so fast?

  Opening her door, I ran up the steps. “Maggie?” My voice was high and frantic.

  “In here,” she replied weakly.

  I found her in her bedroom, wrapped in several layers of blankets. Her cough was deep in her chest. It wracked her body, which had somehow become so frail in the last couple of weeks. She was okay when I left. This made no sense.

  “How are you?” I croaked.

  Maggie smiled. “Dying.”

  “That’s not funny,” I cried, wiping the moisture from my face.

  “Oh, sweetheart,” she said, patting the mattress at her side. “Sit.”

  I eased down beside her as another round of coughing took hold. Even the old mattress felt the reverberations. I looked at her hair, messy and uncombed. Her face was wrinkled, even more than it was before I left.

  “It’s just about time for me to go home.”

  “You are home,” I argued.

  She sh
ook her head. “That’s not true.” Maggie placed a hand on my heart. “You know it in here. Nothing in this world was made to last forever. Not even night-walkers,” she teased, the familiar spark in her eyes easing my pain.

  “Ford told me about what you went through.”

  “And who told my baby brother?” I growled. Roman. Asshole. No doubt he was the one who flapped his big mouth.

  “Your brother’s no baby, and he’s very proud of you, young lady.” She pointed her knotted fingers at me. I wished those fingers would heal, that her body would mend itself and allow her to stay with me a little longer. And I wish I deserved to even hope for such a thing.

  “He shouldn’t be. I did horrible things.”

  “Some people are hell bent on destroying everything around them, and sometimes they get caught up in the destruction. Don’t you worry about helping them along. You did the right thing.”

  “It doesn’t feel right – not all the time. Sometimes it doesn’t feel wrong either.” It was funny how a scent could define a moment. In Maggie’s room, the smell of old, musky blankets and the pine that made her bedframe were the most predominant odors.

  Another coughing fit shook her. She coughed so violently that she sat straight up, sinking back into the pillows when it was over. When she relaxed, a high-pitched wheezing could be heard from her throat, rattling congestion in her chest. She was right. She wouldn’t survive this.

  “What can I do, Maggie?”

  She smiled, taking in as much oxygen as she could with each breath. “Would you stay with me for a while?”

  “Of course,” I answered, grabbing her hand and rubbing away the cold. She was frigid. “There isn’t anywhere I’d rather be.”

  “I’ve missed you.”

  I smiled slightly. I’d missed her so much while I was gone, but that would pale in comparison to what I’d feel when she left me for good. My voice cracked, but I needed her to know. “I love you, Maggie.”

  “And I love you.”

  Mercedes was downstairs an hour later when Maggie fell asleep, her chest rattling with congestion. A pot of water boiled over the flames in the fireplace, alongside a large pot of soup. “Can you carry the water to her room? It seems to help her breathe easier,” she asked.

  I grabbed two towels and lifted the bubbling water. Steam moistened my face as I climbed the stairs to her. There was a towel on the table beside her, a round indention in the center. I eased the pot down and watched as the vapor rose and spread throughout the room. Within minutes, Maggie’s breathing sounded a little bit better.

  If it eased her pain or helped her at all, for even a second, it was worth it. Her chest relaxed and she was able to rest peacefully for a time. Mercedes whispered to me from downstairs, “Come and eat. She’ll be okay.”

  I was going to remind her that I didn’t eat soup, but she added, “I have meat for you.” The fact that Maggie was sleeping and that Mercedes was helping was enough to pry me from the bedside.

  In the kitchen, I watched her. Mother never let us help her cook unless she locked herself away, refusing to do anything but sleep. But Mercedes watched her from a distance. She taught herself what to do and how to do it, and she taught me a few things, too.

  “You’ve been helping her?” I asked, watching Mercedes. She nodded, handing me a dish with raw beef on it. “They slaughtered a cow?”

  “To welcome the refugees. The council wants to make a good impression, I guess.”

  “This’ll do it.” She ladled soup into her bowl and sat it in front of her, sitting to my right at the table. The wooden surface was worn smooth, scarred from years of use, from Maggie’s hands and knives. “Thank you for helping her.”

  “She means a lot to you,” she said, dipping her spoon into the hot broth and raising it to her lips, blowing ripples across its brown surface.

  “She does.” I used the knife and fork she’d set out to cut into the meat. It was fresh and smelled so delicious my mouth watered for a taste. I couldn’t talk. Every time I talked I couldn’t hear Maggie’s breath. If we were quiet and still, I could hear her and know that she was alive.

  Mercedes seemed to sense it. Having been a night-walker, she knew the sensitivities. She knew what it felt to be starved, crazed, and half out of your mind with primal needs, but feel like the same you inside.

  Her spoon stilled above her soup. “She’s been waiting for you, I think. She didn’t want to let go until she saw you. Maggie loved you in a way Mother couldn’t allow herself to.”

  I nodded, chewing rapidly to stave off the tears that threatened to bleed out from me. If they carried grief as well as liquid, I would be drained dry in no time.

  She patted my hand for a second. “You loved her too. She knows that.”

  “Doesn’t make it any easier,” I blubbered, letting the dam of sadness break beneath my eyelids.

  “I know. And I’m here for you. So is Tage. He’s on the porch and refuses to come inside.”

  “Why?”

  “He wants to be close to you, but still give you time with her. It’s really sweet.”

  “Have you seen Noah?” Before everything had changed, she’d had her very own love.

  Mercedes stiffened, grabbing her glass of water. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

  “Why? What did he do?”

  She sat her glass down and dabbed at her lips with a cloth. “His affections changed when I did, apparently. He is no longer interested in marrying an Infected or a night-walker.”

  “You’re neither.”

  “Tell him that. He’s terrified of me now, backed away like I was Satan himself.”

  I shook my head. “Then he doesn’t deserve you.”

  “Doesn’t ease the pain, but thank you.” She stilled and looked at me for a long moment. “It’s getting dark. I’ll light the candles.”

  I quickly finished my meal as she set to work lighting a long wooden stick and then transferring the flame to the wicks of the candles around the room. Her soup was still steaming, but her appetite had left.

  When she stilled and my bowl was empty, I stood and moved to the wash pan. She came to me. “I’ll take care of this.”

  My hands shook. I was about to burst and needed to tell someone. Whispering to her, I admitted it for the first time. “I… I killed Pierce. It was me. Not those women.”

  Her breath caught and she tugged the bowl from my hands and turned to look at me with steely eyes that reminded me of Mother. “Good.”

  Porschia stepped out on the porch just before dawn. Her face was damp from water and not blood. For a moment, I thought everything was okay, that Maggie had just had a rough night. When her lip began to quiver, I knew I was wrong and wrapped her tightly in a hug. She squeezed me back and I felt every ounce of her pain as sobs wracked her body. I’d have done anything to take the pain away. If the bond allowed it, I would have absorbed it all so she didn’t have to feel a single second of it.

  But there was nothing to heal a broken heart. Hurt like this always left a scar, some more sensitive than others. I’d been sensing danger drawing near and had focused on keeping everyone inside the house safe instead of honing in on what was happening within the walls.

  “She’s gone,” Porschia hiccupped, pulling me closer.

  I rubbed her back and hair and tried to make sure she knew I loved her. Because I did. I loved her so damn much it hurt. My heart hurt because hers was torn in two.

  Mercedes stepped out behind her and pulled the door closed. “I’ll tell Father.”

  Porschia broke down again. She was broken and I wasn’t sure I could put her back together. Maggie gave her love when her own mother wouldn’t. She took her in, gave her chance after chance and taught her more in just a few weeks than she’d learned about life in all of her years.

  Mercedes’ footsteps trailed away. “Do you want to go home?” I asked softly.

  “No. I want to stay with her. I just needed you.”

  A millstone dropped from aroun
d my neck. I’d been drowning in my sorrows, thinking Porschia didn’t want or need me anymore. With just a few words, the rope was cut and the weight fell away.

  “I need you, too. I’ll help with whatever you need.”

  “I know you will,” she reassured me. “Thank you, Tage.”

  “You don’t have to thank me, kitten. I love you.”

  She didn’t say it back, but pulled me closer, fisting the shirt against my back. It stung a little, but I knew she would say it in her own time. That time wasn’t now.

  Father came right away. He stepped onto the porch and told me he would be back in a few moments and would get a few men to help him dig the grave. Tage volunteered to help and Father stiffened but thanked him. I wasn’t sure what that was about.

  “I’ll be right back,” he promised.

  Mercedes stayed with us. “Father didn’t want me to tell you, but people are still frightened of the night-walkers.”

  “Of me, you mean.”

  “All of you, and me because I was one of you,” she admitted.

  “For a day or two,” I growled. These people were exasperating. “It’s not something you can catch.”

  “They’re afraid of the rotation starting back up again. You’ll need blood.”

  “We’re fine.” We were being fed. I thought of Saul in the forest and hoped he was finding food. My theory was that the animals fled from where they were being eradicated, so the women from The Manor may have unknowingly done us a favor by flushing them to us.

  “I know. There’s just a lot of change and they’re frightened. It’s crazy. The people of Mountainside and The Glen think we’re liberators, while our own neighbors see us as captors.”