by J. C. Wilder
Was she truly innocent?
How could she know the things about his race that she’d written about? Was her story about the diary true?
The wheels of his bike sliding on the wet pavement shook him from his thoughts. Rainwater ran down the sides of the road in steady streams. The earth was soaked to the point where the rain had no place to go other than the road. He passed the section where the landslide had occurred a few days ago.
Water trickled in numerous rivulets over the raw, exposed earth. There was just too much of it, and he knew there’d be more slides if this rain kept up. He hunkered lower over the bike, carefully guiding it up the road and into the clouds.
Inwardly, he cursed as the weather impeded his progress. Several times he had to steer around debris littering the road. Finally, he reached the gravel drive and breathed a sigh of relief as the house came into view. Alongside the drive, rivers of water ran down the hill, around the side of the house toward the point just beyond the deck in back. Erihn’s car remained parked cockeyed in the drive.
He pulled his bike into the garage and turned it off. He climbed off then shed his wet jacket, tossing it over the handlebars of Mac’s mountain bike. He opened the door and stepped into the foyer. The unnatural silence of the house surrounded him. He paused, taking note of the surroundings, but scenting no danger. He flipped the wall switch. Nothing happened.
He grinned. The power was out. Wouldn’t his friends laugh if they knew the great were-cat Fayne was jumpy over the power being off? He walked into the hallway and was surprised to find Max standing in the living room. His son stared transfixed at the flickering flame of a candle with an odd expression on his face. Several lit candles were scattered around the room and a small fire burned in the fireplace, bathing the room in a warm golden glow.
“Max?”
The child didn’t stir, his expression was dreamy as if he were listening to music no one else could hear. Fayne walked down the steps, his movements cautious. The boy didn’t react when he crouched down beside him. “Maxi?”
The child made an inarticulate grunt, then a sigh.
Footsteps bounded up from the basement, and Fayne smelled Bliss’ perfume before she reached the top of the basement steps.
“Max,” he spoke in a sharper tone of voice.
The child jerked then slowly turned toward him. His heart thudded wildly when he saw the flat black of his eyes, a sight he knew far too well.
“He has her.”
Fayne swallowed. “Who?”
“He has the woman.”
He glanced at Bliss and caught her shocked expression. She had several fresh candles in her hands. He turned to Max. “What woman?”
“The marked one.”
“Marked one?” he whispered, horror blossoming in his throat.
Max lifted a hand, placed a cold finger on Fayne’s cheek, and drew the shape of Erihn’s scar. His stomach knotted as he fought for calm. “Bliss, run upstairs and see if she’s in the bedroom.”
She didn’t answer, but he heard the clatter as she dropped the candles on the hall table. Her leather shoes made a slapping noise on the floor tiles as she ran for the steps.
“Max, where is the marked woman?”
“In a hole.”
Fayne frowned. “A hole?”
“He’s coming for me and he’s using the little man to help him.”
“What man?”
“The man who took her away. He had squares on.”
“Squares?” Fear clawed at his throat and he clenched his jaw to prevent a snarl from escaping.
“Does he mean plaid?” Bliss appeared in the archway out of breath. “She’s gone.”
“Red and black squares and a green truck.” Max blinked as if he were waking from a deep sleep. “I thought you were hurt. That’s what the man said.”
“What happened, son? What happened to the marked woman?”
“The man came to the door and said you were hurt. She went with him. He was going to take her to you.” Max frowned. “You’re not hurt?”
Fayne hugged the little boy. “No, I’m not hurt. I need to know where Erihn is, Max. I think she’s in trouble.”
The boy stuck his lip out, it trembled slightly. “She’s in a hole.”
“What do you mean by a hole?”
He shrugged.
Fayne’s heart constricted. “A cave?”
The child nodded.
“Where is she, Max?”
Max pulled out of Fayne’s arms and walked up the steps into the dining room. He pointed out the large window facing the north cliffs. “She’s there, in a hole.”
He grabbed a candle and followed his son into the gloomy room to look out the window. Darkness was falling and heavy clouds obscured the cliffs. Fayne’s heart dropped to his stomach. The temperature was dropping rapidly and in this weather she wouldn’t last long out there. He had to move quickly.
“Okay, Max. I need to go get her and bring her back. Can you stay here and take care of Bliss for me?”
Max’s head tipped to one side, and his expression grew distant. Slowly, he raised a hand to his lips. “I can hear her screams,” he whispered.
Fayne shot a look at Bliss and she nodded imperceptibly. He smiled his thanks and dropped a quick kiss to his son’s forehead. Stalking toward the French doors, he stripped his clothing as he went. Opening the doors, he winced as the icy rain struck his bare skin. The familiar darkness closed around him when he shut the door.
He glanced back to see Bliss in the candlelight as she enfolded his son in her arms. Her gaze met his as she picked up the boy. She nodded and walked into the living room out of his view.
Fayne turned to face the north peak. He closed his eyes, reality receding, as he embraced the violet fire and unleashed his beast.
* * * * *
Erihn tasted blood when she slumped to the ground. The earthen floor of the narrow cave was cold and damp beneath her and the scent of mud and mold filled her nose. Darkness flickered on the edge of her consciousness but she refused to give into it. If she had an episode now, she was as good as dead.
Ivan stood in the mouth of the cave, two lanterns at his feet, rubbing his knuckles as he watched the rain. A frown played on his lips. “I’m sorry I hit you, but I had to. I had to stop the screaming.”
She spat blood from her mouth and gingerly rose to her feet. The cave was sharply sloped toward the belly of the mountain. To her right was the cloying darkness and to her left was Ivan. Which of the two evils was worse?
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her tongue growing numb where she’d bitten it. “I shouldn’t have screamed.” Erihn put her hand on the cold wall to balance herself. Rainwater ran in from the mouth of the cave and she’d landed on the lowest side of it. A narrow trickle was rapidly becoming a small stream, turning the floor into mud and walking into a hazardous affair.
“She shouldn’t have screamed either. I had to get her to stop screaming. She just kept going and going. I didn’t think she’d ever stop.”
Erihn froze. What did he mean? Had he killed someone? “Who are you talking about, Ivan?” She held her breath waiting for his answer.
“My wife, Mary,” Ivan said finally. “I do love her so.”
She released the breath she’d been holding. So she wasn’t dead. “Where is Mary now, Ivan?” Carefully, she began to pick her way to the higher side of the cave.
He frowned. “I don’t know for sure. She ran off. That’s why I had to find you. I need your help to bring her home again.”
Erihn sat on a narrow, flat piece of rock. It was cold, but at least it was dry and off the floor. “Why do you need my help?”
“I need you to get her back for me.” Ivan turned. “She loves your books and she reads them all the time. If you write a book in which the man and woman are married, they separate and the woman realizes she made a mistake and they get back together, she’ll come back to me.”
He was mad. She swallowed. What was it with crazy
people today? Was it a full moon? First Fayne thought he was a were-cat, and now this.
“I don’t see how that’ll help you…” she began.
“It has to work!” Ivan shrieked and stumbled toward her. “She left me because of you. It’s all your fault.”
Erihn screamed when he lunged at her. She tried to avoid his hands, but he caught her sleeve and hauled her to her feet. “She left me because of those stupid were-cats you wrote about. She left me because she wanted a younger, more virile man.” He gave her a sharp shake, causing her to narrowly miss biting her tongue again. “You’re a poor moral influence on your readers. You teach them to crave depravity, and you destroyed my beautiful home and my beautiful wife. She’s dead because of you!”
She cried out when he shoved her away from him. She skidded to her knees, her bandaged hand going wrist-deep into the stream of muddy water. She struggled to her feet, her knees screamed in protest and the thick mud sucked at her shoes.
“You’re the letter writer,” she sputtered.
Ivan preened. “I’ve written you some lovely letters, haven’t I?”
She choked on the bile burning the back of her throat. “You…” Her words faded when a shadow stepped out of the rain and into the mouth of the cave. Thin and angular, the figure was draped in a sodden black cloak. There was something familiar about him.
The newcomer tossed his hood back. She gasped. It was the albino man from outside the shop. His skin glowed an eerie white in the lantern light. His icy eyes flicked over her, then focused on Ivan. She was surprised when Ivan shook his head before the man said anything.
“She doesn’t have it,” Ivan said.
The ghostly man looked at her and she trembled under his icy stare. It felt as if a thousand cold fingers poked her skin at once. “W-w-what does he want?” she stammered. She knew, if she had a choice, she’d choose Ivan over this man. The albino fairly radiated pure evil.
“A book. Mr. Edwards here believes you have some sort of diary from his family and he wants it back.”
The diary? What did he want with the diary? Erihn shook her head. “It isn’t here. It’s at the house.”
The newcomer’s eyes narrowed to pinpoints of ice. She shivered as his gaze flicked to Ivan. The smaller man was shaking his head again.
“How was I to know? I thought it was in the bag,” he protested. “She was getting ready to leave, and she had the bag in her hand. I assumed it was in there.”
The albino’s lip curled in a silent snarl. In the blink of an eye, his hand whipped out, snatched Ivan around the neck, lifting the smaller man off his feet. Ivan struggled against the sticklike fingers holding him immobile.
Erihn screamed when those fingers plunged into Ivan’s throat. Blood spurted from the gaping wound, forcing her to stumble away before the warm liquid splattered her. Her feet slid in the thickening mud, and she went down on her backside. Water splashed around her in growing torrents, forcing her to grab a rock sticking out of the wall in order to pull herself upright. Reluctantly, the mud released her with a sickening slurping sound.
She turned toward the face of the cave and her new tormentor. Ivan still dangled from the thin man’s hand like a puppet, eyes slowly glazing as his life faded away. She glanced at the rising level of water. Within minutes, they’d be in serious trouble if they didn’t get out of this cave. Already half the floor was underwater.
She looked at the albino again. “We have to get out of here.” She pointed to the water. “We’ll die if we stay here any longer.”
“I want the diary.” The words were mangled as they came from Ivan’s mouth. His lips weren’t moving, causing the words to sound muffled. Through the gash in his neck, she saw the albino’s thin fingers clamped around Ivan’s vocal cords and he plucked them like guitar strings.
Erihn gagged and spun away from the horrific sight. She put her hand on the wall to retain her balance as her stomach heaved. Within seconds, she’d emptied its scant contents.
“If you give me the diary, I won’t hurt you.”
She shuddered at the unearthly voice. “You can have the diary,” she shouted over the dull roar of the rising water. The torrent was rapidly turning into a river, and the water lapped at her ankles. She turned. “We have to get out of here now.”
A ghostly smile touched his lips and Erihn’s eyes widened as she caught sight of what looked like vampire teeth. What in the devil was he? Revulsion crawled under her skin.
“Come along, girl,” the Ivan puppet intoned.
Erihn glanced at the rising water and the albino. Neither one was a good choice, but with one, she might just survive. The other would kill her for sure. It always came down to making choices, and this one she didn’t want to have to make.
She edged toward the mouth of the cave, sliding in the mud with almost every step she took. She halted when a shadow appeared, capturing the albino’s attention.
A large cougar loomed in the mouth of the cave. The lantern light reflected off the amethyst collar it wore.
“At long last, Fayne,” the Ivan-puppet intoned. “We meet again.”
Fayne? Erihn frowned at the cat.
The cat emitted a low growl, its golden eyes glinted in the light.
“I believe you have something of mine.”
The cat shrieked, its displeasure evident. A series of low growls filled the cave.
“Now, must we be so unpleasant?”
Erihn yelped when the torrent of water gushed over her feet. The sodden earth beneath her ruined tennis shoes began to give way, throwing her off balance. She made a wild grab for the wall and missed, sliding into the newly formed river. The icy water wrapped around her body and hurled her toward the darkness in the yawning belly of the cave.
She screamed when the force of the water slammed her into a crevice in the rock wall, lodging her in place. Beneath her backside, she felt an odd rumbling sensation, as if the mountain had indigestion.
She wrapped her hand around a rock protruding from the wall. Above her the albino and the cat stood eyeing each other warily. The force of the water was building and the cold sapped her strength. Debris in the water, small sticks and branches, stabbed at her skin when the muddy current swirled past her. She struggled to her knees then to her feet. A large branch clubbed her in knee, almost sending her into the water again. Terror struck her as she realized she might well end up buried alive if something didn’t happen soon.
The cat looked at her, then back at the albino. It gave an earsplitting scream that bounced off the walls of the cave before being swallowed by the din of the rainwater river. The cat turned its back on the albino and began inching its way toward her. A peculiar laugh filled the cave.
“You’ve made your choice, Fayne,” the Ivan-puppet thundered. “One can only hope your son doesn’t live to regret it.”
The cat stopped and turned toward the man, clearly indecisive.
Without warning, the rock shifted beneath Erihn’s hands and a cry tore from her throat. She clawed at the wall, but it was no use, her numb fingers couldn’t retain a grip. The muddy water ripped her from her unstable perch, surrounded her and sucked her under. She flailed wildly, trying to find something to cling to. Her hand struck a large object. Desperate, she wrapped her hands around it, pulling her head above the water.
Coughing, she blinked the mud out of her eyes and looked around. How far she was from the mouth of the cave she didn’t know, she couldn’t see anything.
The darkness was complete.
“N-n-noooo,” she moaned.
Something slithered at the edge of her consciousness, as a wail locked in her throat. No, no, no!…
Don’t cry…
Frantic, Erihn looked around for the owner of the voice. Soft and high, it was the voice of a child.
“Who…”
I’m here with you. I won’t leave you alone.
“Who are you?”
My name is Max.
“Max? Fayne’s son?”
Yes.
Erihn shook her head. She must have struck it on something. She grunted when something poked her in the stomach, almost knocking her loose from her dubious sanctuary. Right now, she needed to get out of this muck and onto dry land.
“Well, Max, if you can think of any way to get me out of this,” she muttered, trying to get her legs underneath her.
Reach up.
Erihn looked up. She could see nothing above her.
“What am I reaching for?”
A ledge.
She locked her knee around her perch and flailed an arm over her head. She struck rock and, feeling around, her hand curled around a small, shelflike protrusion.
“Thank you, Max,” she breathed.
You’re welcome.
“How do you do that?”
Do what?
Mustering the last of her strength, Erihn stretched and flung her arm over the edge of the ledge. “Talk to me in my head like this.”
It’s easy.
She snorted as she hauled herself over the edge. “Easy for you, maybe.” Her legs dangled over the edge when disaster struck. Something large in the water hit her mid-thigh, rocking her body from its unstable perch. She began to slide back into the water, a shriek on her lips.
Lady!
Erihn flailed desperately, knowing if she fell this time, she was done. She was almost out of strength, and there was no way she’d make it out of the water again. She sucked in a huge gulp of air when her fingers struck warm fur. Her hand curled around a collar as the ledge crumpled beneath her stomach, threatening to send her tumbling into the water.
Her downward slide was halted as pain ripped her arm. Screams filled the cave as sharp teeth bit through the jacket and into the flesh of her arm. Claws reached down, digging into the back of her jacket, scoring her skin. She bit her lip, braced her free hand on the ledge and struggled to pull herself onto it.
Falling face first on the ledge, she struggled for her breath. Pain racked her body and she battled to subdue her panic. The cat released her arm and dropped down next to her, his warm tongue bathing her face.
Tears stung her eyes as Erihn worked her arm around his neck. “Thank you,” she whispered.