Worlds Apart

by Marlene Dotterer

  “Don't be silly,” she said, glad for the professionalism that replaced her depression. “It's almost dark, and it's going to rain. Where are you?

  “Are you sure? I'm just off of Grillman Road, about ten miles from town. There's a fire trail...”

  “I know it,” she said, pulling her coat from the closet. “Do you have a flashlight?”

  “Of course.”

  “All right. Give me twenty minutes, then start turning it on and off in five second intervals. If I don't see it when I get to the fire road, I'll call you. Is your leg broken?”

  “I don't think so. Just twisted or something. Swollen like hell.”

  “Try to stay warm. I'll be there as fast as I can.”

  “Thanks, Tina. I owe you a week of dinners.”

  “Damn straight. See you in a bit.”

  She dashed out the door.

  Chapter 28

  It was full dark and raining by the time she eased off the main road onto the sharp curve of Grillman Road. The fire road intersection was about a mile down. She crept along, unable to see more than a few feet in front of the car. She stopped after a mile. She honked once and turned off her headlights, craning her neck to search the forest for flashing lights.

  Not seeing anything, she rooted in her pocket for her phone, cursing when it slipped from her gloved hand deeper into the pocket. Before she found it again, her passenger door swung open and Damien slid into the car.

  She yelped in surprise. “Shit! Where'd you come from so fast? I thought you were hurt.”

  He grinned. “I lied.”

  “What?”

  “Just wanted to get you out here.”

  She stared at him, speechless. His grin widened, and her voice returned. “What the hell does that mean? Is this a joke? An attempt to be romantic or something? Because it doesn't work.”

  “No, it isn't anything like that,” he said, and before she could blink, a large, nasty-looking knife was in his hand, held up between them.

  She froze in place. The knife stood in stark relief in front of his face. His grin stretched on either side of it, and his eyes bore past the knife's tip into hers. Such blue eyes, cold and glinting from some inward light. In a moment of clarity, she wondered what his aura would show her if she could see it.

  “Damien,” she whispered. “Don't do this.”

  He breathed deeply through his nose. “Fear. Good, Tina. Fear is good.”

  The knife glided toward her, twisting her hair around the tip. Her fear escalated to terror, but she stayed frozen in place, unable to move. A familiar feeling. She felt the tip stroke her ear and the soft skin behind it. Damien leaned forward, his face buried in her neck as he took another deep breath. She couldn't stop the whimper that escaped her.

  “So good,” he murmured. “There will be more. Much more, before we're done.”

  Clive, she thought. I've got to apologize to Clive before I die. For some reason, she couldn't bear the thought that he might never know how she felt.

  Damien sat back, once again using the knife to stroke her hair. “You're strong, Tina,” he said, as if they were having a normal conversation. “I don't know how you do it, but you're able to resist me. Not enough, you understand. But enough to be puzzling. I want to understand it.” The knife traveled to her stomach and rested there. She flinched against the paralysis, tried to move away. It didn't work. “I want to understand how you carry the spawn of a werewolf and are still alive. I want that power.”

  She gasped against his hold on her. “I can explain it. I can help you, Damien. It's a cure… we hope… you won't have to be a werewolf anymore.”

  He stared at her a moment, then laughed. “Why would I want that? Do you have any idea of the power a werewolf has? Why would I give that up? No one can beat me, Tina. Everyone fears me.” He leaned close. “You fear me.”

  She forced herself to sniff, tried to bury the fear. “I see that Kaarmanesh also has psychopaths. You people are just like us.”

  He smiled, tracing her cheek with the knife. “Drive, Tina. Down the fire road. I'll tell you where to stop.”

  ~~

  Clive spoke to one of the ravens Kasia was using as guards. It reported that this section of the forest was quiet. No humans were out in the cold dark. It showed him where others were searching and agreed to pass on his location to Kasia. The raven did not offer any other information, nor make an effort to chat. It didn't trust him, but it made no suggestion that he return to the Keeper's house.

  He waited a few minutes after the raven had left. His fury eased, leaving weary despair in its place. He felt the pull of the moon, even through the rain. Two days until Full.

  Even in the Flatlands, his blood rose to meet the shining orb, as if eager for consummation. His bones ached as they prepared for the coming Change.

  Clive closed his eyes and lifted his face to the rain. Slowly, his senses began to wander, reaching into the forest. He felt the fear his presence brought to Flatland creatures. It was a fear based on instinct, as they had no practical experience with werewolves.

  Beyond the fear, he searched for a trail. He’d sensed the other werewolf in this forest before and he brought back the memory of it: the smell, the taste, the feel of him wandering where he had no right to be.

  And he found a trace, responding to his memory.

  He opened his eyes and turned a quarter circle, staring into the trees. There was no ripple of magic like he might see in Kaarmanesh. But it was a path, nevertheless. He stepped out, holding the trace in his sight, and followed.

  Fifteen minutes later, he crested a hill and tried to make sense of what he saw. The sun was sinking behind him and its evening rays lit a path that stretched ahead. About twenty feet below him the hill broke away in a bare scarp. About twenty feet below that, a foot path ran perpendicular to the hill. The far side of the path continued down. Between the scarp and as far below him as he could see—which wasn’t very far beyond the path—a wide swath of land was bare of trees. He saw a few stumps, broken branches, and rocks of all sizes.

  A rockslide. Nothing unusual about it.

  Except for the telltale trace of black magic that still throbbed along the swath.

  The werewolf had caused this slide. But why?

  Frowning, Clive made his way down the hill, detouring around the bare rock face which had been the source of the slide. He sensed it when he reached the path. Shock made him stop and turn to stare back up the mountain, to see the path taken by the rocks. He imagined humans—young ones by the scent—staring upward. Seeing the rocks.

  Knowing they had no time to run.

  He didn’t want to go, but he turned back to follow the rocks to the end of the fall. This side of the path smelled of terror and pain, and something else—something unique to his quarry.

  Joy. Power.

  Magic like this was only whispered about in Kaarmanesh, but as a law officer, Clive had come across it before. Magic wielded by those who absorbed power from the suffering of others.

  Clive stood amid the carnage and sensed the age of this magic. It wasn’t recent. It had probably happened around the time he first came through to talk to Sebastian Ruth. If he’d been smarter about it, perhaps he could have prevented this.

  Damn.

  ~~

  “Stop.”

  Tina hit the brakes at Damien's sudden command. The back tires skidded briefly. Damien pointed to the left. “Pull over into the trees. Slow. I'll tell you when to stop.”

  She turned the wheel and inched ahead, continuing even as the pine needles screeched over the hood and roof of her car. Just as she thought she couldn't go farther, Damien told her to stop again. They had driven for an hour along the fire road, each mile from civilization adding to her despair. Eventually, she stopped thinking about it and forced her mind to settle into a mantra: Protect the baby. Apologize to Clive. She almost forgot about Damien until he'd said to stop.

  “Turn off the car,” he ordered.

  She obeyed. P
rotect the baby. Apologize to Clive. She blinked herself out of a daze. The situation was changing and she needed to pay attention.

  He gestured with the knife. “Out.”

  She hesitated, then opened the door, taking a moment to lift her jacket’s hood into place before stepping out. He followed on the passenger side, his flashlight trained on her. She stayed by the open door.

  He gestured with the light, pointing to some rocks about fifteen feet away. “Wait over there,” he said.

  She made her way across the slippery needles, turning to look back at him when she reached the rocks. He was a dark blur against the light, but she saw him nod. “You'll wait there until I'm done.”

  She felt the paralysis return, locking her into place.

  Protect the baby. Apologize to Clive. Her heart drummed in her chest.

  Damien faced the car, turning off the flashlight. She couldn't see anything in the dark, but heard him crunching through the needles. Her heart seemed to beat into her throat, until she realized his steps were not coming closer. As her eyes adjusted, she saw he was circling the car, over and over. She heard him chanting.

  Was he casting a spell? Kasia said he was a witch. It occurred to her that he might be concealing the car so no one could find her.

  Then she had an idea. She had one chance. Staying as quiet as possible, she took off her gloves, stuffing them into a pocket. He wasn't watching her. She pulled her cell out, thumbing the on switch. She dared not look down. She turned slightly, trying to hide the light. There was one number she could reach without thought, one person who would always check a message from her.

  Her blind thumbs danced over the keys. kidnapped damien off grillman fire

  She started to press the send button. She may have pressed it. But before she could be sure, a stinging blow knocked the phone from her hand. She heard it shatter. A shadowy glimpse of Damien's arm passed her vision just before another blow landed on her head. She flew through the air, coming up against the rocks with a sharp pain in her back. Her cry turned into a scream as he lifted her by her coat, and smashed a fist into her face. She lay where he dropped her.

  “Bitch.” As he turned back to the car, something hard passed over her waist, pinning her to the ground. Her frantic hands encountered a strip of metal around her. She tried to find its end, but it seemed to disappear into the ground. She lay still, held a hand to her burning face, and waited.

  Chapter 29

  “Want your booster chair?” Will laughed as his two-year-old son dragged the seat from its corner.

  “Want 'ster chair,” Jed repeated, dragging it to the table.

  “Got it.” Will placed the seat on Jed's kitchen chair as he fished his buzzing cell from his pocket. “Hope this can wait,” he told Marilyn, who was carrying a dish of mashed potatoes to the table.

  He glanced at the message, saw Tina's name, and suspected his dinner was going to be interrupted. The words on the screen froze him in place, until his wife stepped beside him, Jed in her arms.

  She gasped at the message. “What on earth?”

  He shook his head.

  “Is it spam?”

  He double checked. “It's Tina's number. Unless someone stole her phone...” He stared at Marilyn, alarm stirring within him. Tina would not send a prank message.

  She gazed back with a troubled expression. “Try calling her back.”

  He began, then paused. “What if she's really... he might hear it ring.”

  “She always has it on buzz,” Marilyn reminded him. Jed squirmed, trying to get into his chair.

  Will finished the call, putting it on the speaker. There was no ring before a mechanical voice told him the device was not connected.

  “Oh, God,” Marilyn said.

  Will turned away, pulling up another number. Sheriff Ringstrom answered and Will jumped right in with the story, reading the message to him.

  There was a pause before Ringstrom said, “Read that again.”

  “Kidnapped. Damien. Off Grillman Fire.” His voice shook. “I called her back, but her phone isn’t connected. Didn't even get voice mail.”

  “Hang on. Let me call her house.”

  Will and Marilyn stared at each other while waiting for Ringstrom to return. Jed fussed in his mother's arms, but neither one paid attention.

  “Rang three times and went to voice mail,” Ringstrom reported.

  “That's normal,” Will said.

  “You got a key, right?”

  “Yes. To her office, too.”

  “Meet me there.”

  Will closed the connection and hugged Marilyn. “Stay in the house. Keep everything locked.”

  “Do you think she's really been kidnapped by Damien?”

  “I'm going to check this out.” He had his coat on, heading for the garage door. “I'll call you.”

  On the way, he called Sharon. “When did you last see or speak to Tina?”

  She sounded startled. “About four. She was in her office when I left, working on charts.”

  “She say anything about plans this evening?”

  “No. What's wrong?”

  “I don't know yet. I'll get back to you.” He disconnected.

  Ringstrom was getting out of his car when Will pulled up. He motioned for Will to stay where he was, then began a quick circuit of the house. When he came back around, he gestured for Will to come up. Will joined him on the porch, keys in hand. He told Ringstrom about his call to Sharon.

  “Okay,” Ringstrom said. “I sent a couple of deputies out to the fire road. They’ll report in soon.” He gestured to the door. “Unlock it. Let's see what's in there.”

  The house was clean. They didn't see her purse. A computer in the kitchen was not on. A glass half-filled with water sat on the counter. An empty yogurt container and spoon were in the sink.

  Ringstrom frowned. “Let's check the office.”

  There wasn't anything there, either. “Normal,” Will said. “It's all set up for tomorrow's patients.”

  Ringstrom headed outside. “I'm going to Damien's.”

  “I'll follow you.”

  At the apartment, Ringstrom pointed at Will's car. “Stay here unless I call you.”

  It started to rain. Will leaned against his hood and watched as Ringstrom knocked on the door. After three seconds, he knocked again, calling out, “Damien, you in there? Answer the door. It's Ringstrom.” Nothing. “Police! Open up.” Ringstrom tried the handle, but it was locked. He glanced back at Will. “Get the manager. I want to go in.”

  Will raced to the manager’s office and found Sam Durlock closing up. When they returned to Damien’s apartment, the sheriff was on his walkie-talkie. Ringstrom motioned for Sam to unlock the door as he finished his call with a brusque, “Keep looking. I’ll call you.”

  The studio was small, and they took it in with one glance. Clean, but not perfectly so. A few dishes in the sink. A layer of dust on the furniture. A girlie magazine open on the coffee table with a can of beer next to it.

  Will caught an ominous and familiar odor, and turned toward the bathroom, his gut clenching in anxiety. He pointed. “In there.”

  Ringstrom drew his gun and approached the partly closed door. He pushed it with his foot and the blood drained from his face. “Jesus H. Christ.”

  Sam gagged. Will forced his discomfort to fade away into stoic professionalism. He’d never get through this otherwise.

  Ringstrom stepped into the room. “It's a cat.”

  The animal was stretched out over the tub, held by a clothesline fed under its collar. Its skin hung from the body in furry sheets. Blood covered the walls, floor, tub, and even the ceiling. They could see its face, twisted in agonized stiffness.

  “It's Beowulf. Tina's cat,” Will said.

  “How do you know that?” Ringstrom sounded like he believed him; he just needed to make sure.

  “That's his collar. And he's been missing for a couple of days.”

  Ringstrom turned, jabbing his radio. He strod
e from the room talking in quick, hard sentences to his dispatcher, ordering a search party and putting out an All Points Bulletin. Will and Sam stared at each other until Ringstrom poked his head back in.

  “Lock it up, Sam. This is a crime scene. Keep everyone away. Doc, it might be a good idea to get an EMT crew out to Grillman Road for when we find her.”

  Chapter 30

  Frantic beeps shrilled from Clive's strap. He jerked his arm up to read it, holding his hat over it to keep it dry from the rain. Bright green letters flashed at him. Urgent. Meeting Now. Urgent, Urgent. Port appended.

  His heartbeat raced in staccato jumps. Something had happened.

  He accessed the port spell, muttered the words and ran three steps. A portal opened in front of him, then popped away behind him. He almost ran into Riff Freeder, who was racing through his own portal a few feet away. Others were arriving too, temporary portals popping in and out of existence as the team assembled.

  Kasia stood off to the side, arms folded across her chest. Her eyes blazed into Clive's. Behind her, Shandari checked through a medical bag. Clive moved without thought to stand in front of Kasia. Both of them ignored the rest of the team.

  “Tina's been kidnapped,” Kasia said.

  “When? Where?” The rockslide was clear in his mind, adding panic to his words.

  She raised her voice so all could hear her. She glanced around as she spoke, but her eyes kept returning to Clive. “All right, listen up. We've intercepted a bulletin sent to all law enforcement agencies in the area. Dr. Cassidy has been kidnapped. The bulletin includes a picture of the kidnapper and I have no doubt he's our werewolf. They're out in the wilderness somewhere. I've sent the information to your straps. Since the Flatlanders are involved, we're changing our plans.”

  She gestured to the Keeper's house. “There's new gear for everyone inside—rain jackets and identification. We're now part of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. They call it the FBI. If anyone questions you, just refer them to me. I'll be in contact with the local officers. Evidently, it's not unusual for the FBI to take over this kind of investigation. That will work in our favor.