by Rach Elle
Cooper could barely breathe as she watched the scene in the overturned truck. A figure appeared out of the corner of her eye. She barely managed to turn her head to see Tauggle.
The Limrid read her expression instantly. Something was very wrong. He approached her, opening his mouth to ask her what happened, but instead he followed her line of sight as she looked back into the vehicle.
“Can you do something?” She asked, her voice vulnerable and fragile; like she herself was about to break at any moment.
Tauggle entered the truck and approached the three in the back. He kneeled next to Bawli; opposite side of Alvin. As the two boys sobbed he reached his hands out and placed them on Bawli’s chest. He closed his eyes and searched for any sign of life; anything he could cling to and possibly help grow. But there was nothing. He was soulless.
Tauggle opened his eyes and looked at Alvin. Slowly, he shook his head.
“Bullshit,” Alvin’s eyes hardened, “You can bring him back. I know you can.”
Tauggle’s lips thinned and his brow furrowed in sympathy, “I’m sorry.”
“What good are you if you can’t bring him back?”
Tauggle had no response.
“Do it!” Alvin cried.
“I can’t.”
“I said; do it!” Alvin reached out and slapped the Limrid across the face.
Cooper watched as Tauggle took Alvin’s abuse. She knew he could easily disappear; or fight back; or simply get up and walk away. Instead he sat there, allowing Alvin to yell and curse and slap him. He couldn’t save Bawli, but he could absorb some of Alvin’s pain; and he willingly did so.
Tears stung her eyes as she realized once and for all; Bawli was dead.
Cooper looked over to see Sunders walking away from the scene.
“Where do you think you’re going,” she tried to sound tough through her tears.
Sunders looked over his shoulder at her; his expression grave, “I don’t know how the Protectors knew where we were,” even though he had some idea. “But more of them might show up and if I’m the one they’re tracking then it’ll be best if I’m not where you are.” His eyes were filled with pain and regret as he turned and continued walking; drudging through the brush toward the hiking trail that ran parallel to the road. He figured he would spend the rest of the night following that trail. Maybe more Protectors would come for him. In which case, he hoped they would do him a favor and just kill him; before the clan had a chance to.
48
“You really don’t need to babysit me all night,” Awilda said through a yawn. She sat on the sofa in front of the television with Kingsley and Elizabeth.
“I’m not letting you out of my sight,” Kingsley said in his low, southern accent. “Nothing’s happening to you on my watch.”
“While I appreciate the sentiment, I really don’t think it’s necessary. Besides, it’s getting late. Why don’t you two go back to the guest house? I’ll be fine.”
Kingsley crooked a brow, “We don’t know when this whole Ultimate War business is going to begin; could be today; could be tomorrow. Hell, it could be a month from now. But when it does happen I need Junior and the rest of this clan to be on my side and actually trust me for once. So if you think I’m leaving you alone tonight then you’re about ten pounds of crazy in a five pound bag.”
Elizabeth giggled from the wingchair. She watched as Awilda rolled her eyes, propped her elbow on the armrest of the davenport and cradled her head in the palm of her hand. She smiled to herself at the sight of King being so protective. He would have been a great father. She supposed he was; but all of his children had long since passed. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what their children would have been like. If only the two of them had met sooner and she hadn’t wasted so many years with her now deceased husband, Randy. They could have had so many more years together; more memories. And she would have happily raised his children.
Elizabeth’s mind wandered from the two sitting on the sofa and focused on the issue that had been waiting in the wings since the clan left earlier in the evening – Bawli. The large shifter had made it apparent that if Kingsley weren’t in the picture he would have pursued her. A small smile reached her lips at the thought of the two of them together. While Bawli didn’t have King’s gruff, southern charm he did carry with him a refreshing sense of compassion. She would never choose any man over King, but Bawli was the closest she’d ever come to making an exception. He had so much love to give and she only hoped that one day soon he’d meet his redhead; so he could stop dreaming – and start living.
All three of them could hear the front door being whipped open and then slammed shut. A herd of footsteps echoed down the main corridor and wafted into the living room. Seconds later Alvin charged into the space, his fists clenched as he passed through; refusing eye contact.
Elizabeth, along with the other two, stood immediately, “Is everything alright?” She asked. Alvin looked like he’d been in a train wreck. Mason quickly followed him, also refusing eye contact. They headed toward the dining hall. Mason recoiled and cringed as Alvin punched the threshold as hard as he could; blood splattering instantly from his knuckles. The two boys left without saying a word.
A moment later, Zeff entered the room with his arm around Cooper’s shoulders. And Junior followed with more anguish on his face than Elizabeth had ever seen. She stood completely still for a moment, waiting for Bawli to enter. But she couldn’t hear any more footsteps. She could feel her heart plummeting into the pit of her stomach as she swallowed a lump in her throat. She looked up at Junior and asked, “Where’s Bawli?”
A single tear escaped her eye and ran down her face as she waited for his response; but he didn’t have one. He merely looked at her with apology in his eyes.
Junior couldn’t take the pain of watching his Responsibility suffer. He knew she and Bawli had a special relationship. They ate breakfast together every morning. They went for walks through the apple orchard and spent hours just enjoying each other’s company in his art studio. Junior knew Elizabeth better than anyone. He knew the look in her eye when she truly loved someone. And she truly loved Bawli.
“I’m sorry,” he managed to choke out.
Awilda fell back into her seat and buried her face in her hands while Kingsley wrapped his arm around Lizzie’s shoulders. She began to cry; more and more tears escaping her eyes. She turned into King and allowed him to embrace her as her sobs grew louder and louder. Her knees weakened and could no longer support her weight. She lowered herself to the floor and Kingsley followed, dropping to his knees and never letting her go.
Junior, Zeff and Cooper lowered their heads in despair. They stood silent and still as Elizabeth grieved on the cold stone floor; mourning the loss of a man that had so quickly become her very best friend.
49
Sunders woke in his chair, whiskey still on his breath. The natural light of day flooded his flat and burned his eyes. He didn’t know what time he’d gotten home last night, but he knew it was early enough to go on a bender. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d drank so much. Then again, he couldn’t even remember how much he drank; so it all evened out, he supposed.
He picked himself out of the chair and shuffled over to the bathroom for a penny. After splashing his face with water a few times he made his way to his bed where he intended to sleep the rest of the day. Fuck work. After the ambush last night a holiday was the least he deserved.
He fell haphazardly onto his bed and allowed his limbs to fall where they may. Even though it was daylight he still expected someone to come crashing through his door with a semi-automatic. Whether it would be a Protector, a gargoyle, or even the little old lady Elizabeth; he didn’t know. Regardless, they would all have the same intention – to blow his brains out. He didn’t care. He deserved it. He didn’t know Bawli very well, but it didn’t matter. An innocent man was dead because of him. Oh, and Wade too; but he was less broken up about that one.
Sunder
s sluggishly turned his head on his pillow toward the night stand at the sound of an alert on his cell phone. Curious, he picked up the small device to see he had a text message. His eyes widened in shock to see it was from Junior.
Meet us in an hour. Come alone. Or we will kill you.
Sunders crinkled his nose in confusion. The text, although threatening, implied that the current plan was to not kill him. He pushed his self upright and re-read the message three times more before finally forcing his debilitating hangover into submission. He got to his feet and steadied his swimming head. He made his way back to the loo where he forced his finger down his throat to quicken the inevitable purging process. Then he brushed his teeth, combed his hair and got dressed with enough time to hit the barista at the end of the block before heading to the tube.
Sunders arrived at the Vanderburen castle; uneasy, sweaty, and still a little ill. He reached the large, double front doors and took a deep breath before knocking. He had considered just letting his self in, but he had the feeling he wasn’t quite as welcomed as before.
After a few moments, the left side door opened to reveal Mason on the other side. The boy had his black hair slicked back and he had removed all of his piercings. He wore a suit and tie and a somber expression.
Sunders followed the boy into the castle and down the main corridor until they entered the living room. There he saw the rest of the clan – minus Elizabeth and Kingsley; all dressed in black. It was then he realized this wasn’t a social call – this was a funeral. And he was the jackass that wore a pair of jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. At least they were dark colors. He tried to hide his cringe; maybe no one would notice?
“Thanks for dressing up mate,” the harsh, cynical words stung his ears as Alvin approached him.
“I’m sorry,” Sunders cleared his throat, “I didn’t realize…”
Alvin’s fist suddenly flew through the air and landed square on the Scotsman’s jaw. He stumbled backwards as no one made the attempt to help steady him.
“Vin,” Zeff said nonchalantly; as if he really didn’t care, “calm down.”
“What didn’t you realize?” Alvin asked, ignoring Zeff, “That Bawli is dead? Oh, that’s right, you ran away before you could face that bit of news.”
Sunders kept his cool. He looked sincerely to the boy with an auburn ponytail, “I wanted to lead the Protectors away from you; in case they were tracking me.”
Alvin delivered a smile simultaneous with a look a death, “My hero,” he snarled. He turned to walk away as Sunders opened his mouth to speak.
“I’m sorry about Bawli.”
“Don’t,” Alvin cut him off. “Don’t waste your breath; there isn’t any forgiveness for you here.”
“Vin,” Awilda’s small voice broke through the aggression. She took a step forward, separating herself from the rest of the crowd. She wore a black dress that reached her knees with square shoulders and a modest neckline. Her fair skin seemed to illuminate against the dark fabric. She looked to Alvin with sorrowful eyes, “Please don’t hate him,” she began. “Give him a chance to apologize; none of this was his intention, I really believe that.”
Alvin took a deep breath without breaking eye contact with the young woman. “Once he outlives his usefulness,” he clenched his jaw, “He’s a dead man.”
Sunders stood in front of the clan with a sore jaw and a furrowed brow. He had a feeling exactly what they expected him to be useful for. “Unfortunately, I don’t know how much longer I can keep the Protectors at bay,” he began; a pint of defeat gargling his voice. “So I’m taking myself out of the equation. I’m quitting the DAA. I don’t know what I’ll do instead; maybe move back to Scotland.” He lifted his chin and squared his shoulders, “Or face the firing squad right here, right now; your call.”
“Slow down,” Junior held up his hand, hoping to calm both the Finder and Alvin. “No one’s facing the firing squad today. Besides, your connection with the Protectors isn’t what Vin was referring to.”
Sunders crooked a brow, “Then what?”
Alvin watched with clenched fists as Junior nodded; nudging him to speak. “Before Bawli died,” his voice cracked on the last word. He cleared his throat, “he wanted me to tell you something.”
Sunders waited in silence as the boy in front of him worked to maintain his composure. His voice was shaky, but Alvin continued, “He said he had a dream that you should know about.”
“A dream?”
“Yeah, he used to have premonitions. He would mostly see people but every once in a while he would see more. And if you make even one crack about it so help me I will…”
“Nah,” Sunders cut him off, “no cracks; continue.”
Alvin took a deep breath, “He said in his dream someone volunteered.”
Sunders’ eyes widened, “Volunteer? As in; the second sacrifice in the prophecy?” He watched as Alvin nodded. “Who was it?”
“That’s where we’ve run into a bit of a problem,” Alvin placed his hands on his hips. “His last words were difficult to make out. But as far as Mason and I could tell, the bloke’s name is either E. Owen or E. Olden; ring a bell?”
Sunders crinkled his nose as he tried to recall something that would be of use. But he was coming up short at every turn. Finally, he shook his head. “Nah,” he said, “but it’s a start. I’ll pull all my resources and see what I can find.”
“See that you do,” Elizabeth’s harsh voice sounded from behind. He turned around to see her and Kingsley standing in the threshold. She eyed Sunders coldly, “We wouldn’t want Bawli’s last words to be for nothing.”
“It’s about time,” Alvin scoffed, “Are you finally ready?”
Elizabeth looked like royalty in a floor length black gown that fishtailed at the bottom. A small black hat sat on her silver hair and draped a dark piece of mesh and beading over her face. She eyed the auburn haired boy with both disdain for his tone and patience for his plight. Finally, she nodded once.
“Good; let’s get this over with,” Alvin mumbled and charged out of the living room, passing the elderly couple along the way.
Elizabeth called to the boy, “I had Tauggle prepare his grave elsewhere.”
Alvin stopped and looked over his shoulder, waiting for her to continue. When she didn’t he snipped, “Are you going to tell us where or is this a bloody scavenger hunt?”
“Watch your tone boy,” Kingsley growled.
Elizabeth placed her hand on King’s shoulder to calm him down. She looked at Alvin then back to the rest of the clan, “Follow me.”
The clan followed Elizabeth outside. They passed the rose garden, where they had all assumed the burial would take place and instead crossed the veranda toward the orchard. They all walked in silence, some with lowered eyes and others staring up at the sky; as if prayer could make this all go away.
Finally, they stopped at the largest apple tree that sat on the outskirts of the orchard. A large rectangular hole had been dug into the ground and inside sat a white, closed coffin. Tauggle stood off to the side in a black suit and tie; a stark contrast to his skin and hair.
Elizabeth stared at the gaping hole in the ground as everyone gathered around. She knew they thought it odd to bury Bawli here. The rose garden made more sense. It was, after all, referred to as Heaven’s Garden.
She looked up toward the castle. Tears formed in her eyes as they focused on the balcony off of her friend’s room. Even though the stone banister was too high for her to see, she knew what sat just behind it; a small table with two chairs, overlooking the orchard and this very tree. With a heavy heart she looked back to the grave and smiled. She knew Bawli would like it here.
The clan was quiet as they looked to her to speak first. She took a deep breath.
“Today we say goodbye to a great friend.” Tears stung her voice, “Bawli was filled with kindness and sincerity. But he was also a tortured soul. He would rather help others achieve happiness than ever reach for his own. He knew the dan
ger that lied within meeting another Finder last night. But he did it without any hesitation. Not because he was brave, or naive, or reckless; but because he loved all of us – more than he loved his self. That is the true tragedy here.” Tears streamed down her face as she sniffled. She stared down at the coffin as if she was looking into her friend’s conscious eyes, “You never knew just how incredible you were,” she whispered.
Each member of the clan grieved with Elizabeth’s words. Junior pulled Awilda into him. Alvin and Mason stared down at the blades of grass beneath their feet; suppressing their sobs. Tauggle gently held Cooper’s hand and Zeff stood with his arms crossed in front of his chest; his expression void of emotion.
Kingsley kept his distance from Elizabeth, even though he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her. But he knew she wouldn’t want the contact right now. He and Bawli had been playing an unspoken tug-of-war for Lizzie’s attention since the moment they arrived at the castle. The best thing he could do to honor his memory was to stay back and watch from afar. In this moment Lizzie belonged to Bawli; entirely.
Elizabeth sniffled again and hardened her eyes as she continued to speak. “We can point fingers and blame others for this,” she – as well as everyone else – looked to Sunders. “But that’s as far as it will go.” She met the Finder’s eyes, “The last time we spoke I told you that if anything happened to Bawli I’d kill you myself.”
Sunders tensed at the old woman’s words. He could hear Alvin smirk to his right.
“And I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said. “It was foolish of me to make such a threat. You don’t need to worry; no one will harm you.” She looked over at a stunned Alvin and pinned him with a serious glare, “No one,” she reiterated. She returned to the grave. “It would be a disgrace to use Bawli’s memory as justification for pain or killing. He would never want it that way. No,” she shook her head, “the only way to properly honor a man like him – is with kindness. The same kindness he showed all of us all of the time.”