All she got was, “Oh, yeah... I guess... umm, thanks...” from Skye, who never lifted her eyes from reading.
Aiyana laughed and got a brush before returning and straddling the bed behind her. The instant she touched her back, she felt Skye’s muscles instinctively tense. Preparing for pain... Aiyana bit her bottom lip sympathetically and, with tearful eyes, got to work letting Skye’s hair down. She had not realized how long it was until it was loose. She took her time brushing it out, careful not to hurt Skye’s shoulder. It occurred to her that all aspects of Skye’s appearance intentionally served to diminish her attributes. She kept her hair pulled back tightly. The clothes she wore covered every bit of flesh possible. Upon cutting her shirt open that night in the club to get to her wound, Aiyana had discovered a bra that served as effectively as an ace-bandage and duct tape to minimize breast size. Skye seemed to be purposely trying to make herself less attractive. Aiyana smiled as she worked on her braid. She decided that with the way men looked at Skye, her efforts were not very effective.
As Skye’s rigid posture gradually began to relax, Aiyana began to wonder whether anyone had touched Skye in a loving way since all those years ago, before the death of her parents. It seemed likely that just braiding her hair in this manner was more gentle human contact than Skye had received or allowed in more than a decade.
Skye’s voice cut in on her ponderings. “Looks like I’ll be changing about three days a month, right? The day before, the day of, and the day after the full moon. So, it’ll be like PMS twice a month. I bet I’ll be a real peach to be around when they coincide. Talk about upping the excuse to be bitchy.”
Aiyana grinned. “I think it would be wise to reinforce the cage on those occasions and not let any men in the area.”
“Damned straight. Wait a second, I just realized something... I really am a bitch now, aren’t I?” Skye asked.
Aiyana attempted to muffle her laughter as she nodded.
“Huh,” Skye breathed thoughtfully. “Well, looks like all the years I spent owning that title finally paid off,” she mused before returning her attention to the text. “It doesn’t say in here how long it takes before the faoil can change at will, just that the ‘most widely accepted theory’ is that it comes with age. Ooh, wait, now we’re talking... it says:
“‘Lycanthropes possess enhanced senses of smell, hearing, and sight, superior to those of humans and wolves. Using an extra-sensory perception that has yet to be defined in our research, they are able to sense vampires in close proximity to themselves. They possess physical strength, maneuverability, reflexes, and speeds superior to those of vampires. Field agent reports have provided numerous examples of these capabilities’.”
Skye marveled at this, shaking her head in wonder as she absorbed page after page of summarized sightings.
‘OCTOBER 27, 1971, CLEARWATER, FL
Lunar Phase: Waxing, crescent
Subject Name: Unknown
Age: Speculated to be over 200 years (Rank: ‘Pup’)
Approximate Age When Bitten:
Subject’s appearance is that of a man in his mid-20s
State of Lycanthropic Transformation at Time of Incident:
Partial (visible changes in subject’s hands, eyes, and teeth)
Incident Details: Subject willingly jumped from rooftop of a six-story structure, landing without injury. Action observed to be a test of some type, carried out in a ceremonial fashion. Test administered by pack leader, conducted before an audience of the subject’s peers.
Notes: The successful completion of this task seemed to be a cause for great celebration amongst members of the pack. It is suspected that this was a rite of passage, a type of confirmation that the subject had reached a requirement for advancement in the pack’s hierarchy.
FEBRUARY 11, 1975, BROOKLYN, NY
Lunar Phase: New moon
Subject Name: Ciaran’
Skye paused abruptly in her reading. Her eyes locked on this name. Her breath caught in her throat as a strange feeling washed over her. She traced her fingers over the letters, studying it curiously.
“Ciaran,” she whispered softly.
“What’s that?” Aiyana asked.
“Huh?” Skye replied distractedly. “Oh... nothing, just... talking to myself. Don’t mind me,” she offered and waved off Aiyana’s question as her eyes remained fixed on the page. Her brow furrowed as thoughts stirred in the back of her mind, just out of reach.
Ciaran.
Just seeing the name written stirred a sense of longing in her, similar to starvation in its intensity. Try as she might, she could not shake the feeling that she somehow knew this word. There was a meaning to it, something of great importance. After struggling with it for a moment, trying to draw it out of the deepest corners of her mind like a half remembered face or event from her distant past, she finally sighed and continued.
‘Subject Name: Ciaran (Source: Subject)
Age: Over 4000 years (Source: Subject) (Rank: ‘Ancient’)
Approximate Age When Bitten:
Subject’s appearance is that of a man in his early 20s
State of Lycanthropic Transformation at Time of Incident:
Human (no distinguishable physical changes)
Incident Details: From a standing position, subject leapt over two separate vehicles, clearing both effortlessly. The agility of this subject surpasses that of all previously observed lycanthropes. Despite feigning ignorance during the incident, subject was apparently aware of the presence of our agents. Afterward, the subject managed to flank them, catching them unawares. Subject acted atypically for a lycanthrope, climbing into the agents’ vehicle without invitation and engaging them in friendly conversation.
Notes: Subject does not live in the US – advised agents that he lives abroad, but was ‘visiting an old friend’. Subject does not exhibit the intolerance for Asher agents’ presence that is customary with his species. Country of origin was not established during this rare conversation. However, the subject speaks with an Irish brogue and wears jewelry marked with designs traditionally attributed to the Celtic Isles.
Significance: Given the apparent age of the subject, this incident is one of many which add credence to Agent Theodor J. Hooley’s widely debated thesis, ‘Lycanthropic Origins: A Theory of Celtic Ties’. Ongoing research has revealed that ancient lycanthropes of the highest ranks within the ‘clan’ always speak with either Scottish or Irish accents.
MARCH 2, 1978, BATON ROUGE, LA
Lunar Phase: Waning, crescent
Subject Name: Unknown
Age: Speculated as over 2000 years (Rank: ‘Elder’)
Approximate Age When Bitten:
Subject’s appearance is that of a man in his early 30s
State of Lycanthropic Transformation at Time of Incident:
Complete cycle (human to full anatomical change to human)
Incident Details: Subject was witnessed triggering the change in order to power through a concrete wall 12 inches in thickness. The apparent motivation for this action was to reach an injured pack member. Conversation overheard by agents confirmed speculation that the wounded man was a ‘pup’ (newly recruited lycanthrope) who had prematurely attempted (against the orders of the pack leader) actions beyond the known abilities of his age group. Because of his actions, the pup fell an estimated distance of 70 feet, landing within an otherwise inaccessible section of the building.
Notes: Despite being outraged at the pup’s disobedience and recklessness, it was clear that the first priority was to get the younger pack member to safety. As always, the protective nature these creatures exhibit with regard to their young mirrors that of wolves. Packs are closely knitted families. No matter the cause of a problem, self-inflicted or otherwise, members will band together to protect one another.’
Skye felt an unbidden smile creeping across her lips.
A pack... a family...
Noting that Aiyana was studying her smile inquiringly, she decided to
joke as a cover. She refused to voice this sudden, instinctive eagerness to be part of a pack. She was a loner, after all. She did not need anyone watching out for her. There was such a thing as a lone wolf. There had to be, she reasoned. Otherwise, where had the expression come from? Skye Faden: Lone Wolf. Yeah, it had a nice ring to it.
“Well, it looks like I’ll be able to knock down walls and jump off buildings eventually,” Skye offered in explanation of her smile. “I bet that will come in handy.”
“Seriously,” Aiyana laughed. “Shit, we could use someone like you on our side. Any chance you’re planning to continue hunting vampires?” She asked hopefully before thinking it through. She immediately regretted it.
Skye’s posture went rigid at the reminder of her uncertain path. She did not answer for a long moment.
“I... really haven’t decided.” she finally whispered and cleared her throat. “You know, I better get some sleep. Tonight’s my last night to rest before we head out, so...”
Aiyana nodded and forced a smile as she climbed from the bed. “Sure, of course. Umm, just let us know if you need anything. Good night, Skye.”
“Thanks,” Skye said as she set the papers on the table beside the bed. “Good night, Aiyana,” she said softly, trying not to make eye contact with her as she left the room. Reaching up to her shoulder, she hissed as she tore away the bandages. With a sigh, she stared down at the nearly healed wound. It simultaneously managed to symbolize the end of all that she knew and the beginning of something she did not understand.
7: Cuidaté
Miko chewed his gum impatiently, watching through the window as his bags were loaded into the van. The reason for the difficulty in getting a flight was finding a day when all of their contacts at the airport were working the same shift. From the time they arrived, their people would cover them. It was all an effort to ensure that he would not have to leave his weapons behind.
At least Skye will be traveling light, he thought to himself, it’s the plus side to having no possessions.
They had offered to retrieve her things from wherever she had been staying, only to find out that (surprise, surprise) the chick did not even own a hairbrush that she felt the need to hang onto. Talk about low maintenance. Miko had met monks with more materialistic needs than this girl.
He sighed and looked at his watch, then checked again to see if they were coming down the hall. Aiyana had waited until the last possible second to hit Skye with the news that she would be traveling alone with him. He had a feeling that it was not going over very well. Just when he had given up hope and turned away, he heard the double doors burst open. He looked back to find Skye stalking toward him, already pointing at him in warning.
“I’m telling you right now, one stupid comment, Miko – one ‘accidental’ hand brush against any part of my body – one remark to anyone that we’re a couple on a romantic getaway and I swear to God...”
“Hey!” Miko cried, holding up his hands and bracing himself in case she intended to give him a hard right hook to the jaw for emphasis. “Contrary to popular belief, I can behave myself!” He declared and pointedly ignored the incredulous look Aiyana gave in response.
Fine, so maybe I intended to tell people that we were on our honeymoon, he thought, but it was all in good fun.
“Skye, I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am to make you travel with him like this. I know he’s a pain in the ass,” Aiyana began apologetically and Miko’s jaw dropped open.
“I’m standing right freaking here!” He screeched in disbelief.
Skye glared at him before returning her attention to Aiyana.
“But if it makes you feel any better, if... or rather... when you have to shut him up, he’s got this weak spot above his right knee where all it will take is a discrete knuckle punch...” Aiyana instructed, pointing out on her own leg the location of Miko’s least favorite place for a warning shot.
“That’s not fair, Ya-ya!” Miko cried as he threw his hands up in the air.
“Don’t you ‘Ya-ya’ me!” Aiyana shot back. “She needs to know the proper way to keep your goofy little ass in line in public. The least I can do is share what I’ve learned over the years.”
Miko let out an indignant shriek before stalking off to the van.
“This... this is worse than being dog chow. If I’d been informed that this was the alternative, I would have sprinkled a little salt on my shoulder and let Kujo dig in,” Skye declared as she watched Miko retreat.
“Hey, before I forget, I got something for you,” Aiyana said in an attempt to change the subject.
Skye turned toward her with confusion evident in her features.
“I figure it can’t hurt to have someone watching over you, even if I did lose my faith years ago,” Aiyana told her with a shrug before pulling a delicate gold cross from her pocket and unclasping its chain.
Sooner than (a now thoroughly perplexed) Skye could even find words to protest, the necklace was being placed around her neck. To say that she did not believe in God would be a staggering understatement. However, the fact that – yet again – this girl was giving her something for no reason had an effect. She ran her fingers over the metal at her collarbone and stared into Aiyana’s dark eyes.
“Umm...” When was the last time someone gave me a gift, Skye wondered? Probably not a good idea to think about it. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” There, that sounded good.
Then, without warning, Aiyana went and did the unthinkable. She hugged her. Skye’s eyes grew wide and she stood completely rigid for several seconds before awkwardly returning the embrace.
“Cuidaté,” Aiyana breathed in Spanish against her shoulder before pulling away. She gave her arms a squeeze in a familiar way before looking into her eyes and whispering, “Take care, Skye.” Then she walked away, leaving Skye to stare at her back in puzzled silence.
By the time they made it to the airport, through a million checkpoints, and onto the plane, Skye had decided that someone must have fed Miko sugar-cubes for breakfast that morning. At least, she prayed that was the cause. If not, and this was his normal level of energy with no hopes of it wearing off, she might have to gag him long before they ever reached Glasgow. She had to use that weak spot of his several times during the first flight. That would be the eight and a half hour flight. She found Aiyana’s tip to be an invaluable means of shutting him up.
So far, warning shots had been dispensed for a wide array of offenses. There was the time he began singing along horribly off-key and obnoxiously loud to his iPod. Then the time he asked if he could ‘cuddle up’ against her shoulder while he tried to fall asleep. And the time he offered to buy her as much alcohol as it would take for her to find him amusing. Then, last but not least, the time he began openly leering at the flight attendant’s ass.
Oh yes, there was an impressive bruise forming on that boy’s leg.
With mercy, he fell asleep about four hours in. Despite herself, Skye found a smile coming to her lips as he snored lightly and slowly slumped until his head rested against her arm. She did not like to be touched as a rule, but the fact that it was so obviously innocent caused her to allow it.
Miko was a menace, the epitome of ADHD, a veritable poster-child for the creation of Ritalin. Yet somehow, someway, she found his antics to be... she rolled her eyes... endearing on some level. He was like an annoying little brother. Her brow immediately arched in response to that thought. She was definitely the last person in the world to whom you wanted to seem ‘brotherly’. Fortunately for him, he managed to do it in a way that did not give her the urge to drive a stake into his chest. He reminded her of more than a decade prior when she had lived with her three elder brothers. Their joking around and getting on her nerves had been a long forgotten memory.
She watched Miko’s peaceful, sleeping face for a while, allowing him to rest his head against her completely and even shifting herself to make it more comfortable for him. In her silent studying of his relaxed features, she stru
ggled with the loss of her brothers. Cold fear began rising in her. If she did not keep Miko as far away as possible, she would suffer all over again if something should happen to him.
With a sigh, she forced herself to look out the window before the unwelcomed tears in her eyes could fall. It was at that point that she noticed for the first time that the steady rhythm she had been tapping her finger in time with was the beating of his heart.
Her eyes widened in surprise.
She could hear his heart. Well... that was certainly new.
She looked around the plane full of strangers and began testing herself, startled to find that she was able to direct her senses around the cabin as she saw fit. The soft clicking of fingers on a laptop keyboard in first class... the scent of the flight attendant’s perfume at the rear of the plane... the gurgling of an upset stomach three rows ahead... even the pilots discussing their plans for the weekend beyond the sealed cockpit door...
Her jaw dropped open in astonishment as she realized that – upon scent alone, as it was too early for any visible indications – she was able to perceive the pregnancy of a woman walking down the aisle toward the bathroom. She pushed her senses further and felt it... the faint heartbeat of a tiny life inside the womb.
By the time they began their descent, Skye had reached the conclusion that being a faol might not be so bad after all. Miko murmured in his sleep and she gritted her teeth, quickly pushing him off her arm and causing him to wake with a start. It simply would not do for him to know that she had been his willing headrest for the past several hours.
He rubbed his eyes and looked around the plane. “How much longer?” He asked through a yawn as he scratched his neck.
“The pilots are saying we’ll land in the next fifteen minutes,” Skye answered distractedly.
Miko looked over at her in surprise. “Really? They made an announcement? Wow, I must have been out cold... I didn’t even hear it.”
She smirked as she turned back toward the window.
The next flight was wondrously shorter; only a hop, skip, an hour, and 25 minutes from London Heathrow to Glasgow International. They exited the terminal with Miko whining excessively that she was not helping him with his bags – to which she replied that she was not the one who had ‘packed more shit than a spoiled diva’. He pouted as he trailed along behind her, loaded down like a pack-mule, toward the car rental desk.
Darkness Descends: A Skye Faden Novel Page 9