Of Souldust and Starlight

by J. C. Hart

  "It was a shallow question," he whispered. "Thanks for explaining it to me."

  "I have all the time in the world for you." She smiled, her hand dropped from his face and she reached for his, their fingers intertwining. She turned, pulling him towards the house and then there was a sudden burst of noise and she gasped as a sharp sensation tore through her, pain radiating from her back as she tumbled, the ground hard against her.

  "No!" Kyle yelled as he fell to his knees beside her.

  "I'm okay. It's okay. I'm okay right?" She hurt so much that she couldn't cry. "What happened?"

  But he'd turned away, was facing the gate he'd entered by. Samantha looked there too, squinting because her vision seemed to blur. She could see someone else there, holding... a gun. It fell to the ground as the person turned and ran.

  "Anahera!" Kyle roared, but he stayed by Samantha's side. He turned his attention back to her. "You're not going to die, not like this. Not while I can help it."

  He tore off his jacket, roughly wrapping it under her and tying it at her waist. The pressure caused the ripples of pain to turn into tidal waves.

  "This is going to hurt, but I have to get you to help."

  "No, no please, don't make me move. I'll just wait here, you bring someone back."

  He looked down at her, brushed the strands of hair off her face. "We don't have time."

  And then he lifted her and the pain swallowed her.

  KYLE RAN, WELL, RAN-walked, toward Alyssa's house. A few cars passed them, but no matter how strange he looked carrying a bleeding woman down the street no one stopped. Small towns. Go figure. Everyone knew everything, but when someone needed a hand...

  His grip slipped and he went down on his knees, cradling Samantha so that she didn't hit the pavement. "Shit. Shitshitshit." He rested her weight on the ground, sank his head against her shoulder. "Come on, I only just found you, I can't lose you now."

  She didn't rouse, so he took a deep breath and stood. His movements were slower now, but he was determined. And there it was. It looked so different now that he was here for help, not to scope out for an assassination.

  He stumbled up the front steps and kicked the door, not trusting his grip on Samantha. "Help! I need help!"

  The door swung open and Alyssa was there, her boyfriend behind her. He'd never actually met them but he felt like he knew them, at least a little.

  "What have you done?" Alyssa's face went white as soon as she saw the blood. "Put her down and step away from her."

  "Let me bring her inside, she needs help, she needs it now. I didn't know where else to take her."

  "Did you do this?" The man had stepped in front of Alyssa.

  "No, I didn't. But I know who did." Kyle adjusted his grip. "Please, let me in. I'll do anything to save her."

  "Brandon," Alyssa said, she tugged on his arm and he moved aside to let Kyle pass. Alyssa led him to a room at the back of the house and he lay Samantha down her stomach.

  "She was shot through the back by Anahera. She followed me to Samantha's house and..."

  "What were you doing there?"

  "She... I... We..." Kyle couldn't summon the words. How could he explain what they were to each other when he could barely understand it himself? "I care about her. I needed to see her. I didn't know Anahera would..."

  "Get out," Alyssa whispered. She pointed to the door, her lips pressed into a hard line. When he didn't go she moved towards him, pushed him back. "Get out. We don't need you. She doesn't need you."

  "I swear, if I'd known this would happen I'd never have gone to see her. You have to believe me, I'd never do anything to hurt her."

  "And you expect us to believe you? You've been here working against us the whole time, pretending to be Jake's friend, pretending to give a shit—"

  "Alyssa, Sam needs you. Now." Brandon tugged on her arm, spinning her back to face the bed. Brandon looked at Kyle, a multitude of expressions flitting across his face from sympathy and rage. Kyle stood there, silent but unmoving, finally Brandon nodded to the corner. "Sit down and stay there. Don't do anything stupid or you'll regret it."

  Kyle nodded, but Brandon had already turned for the bed. Kyle sat in the rocking chair, his fingers curling around the ends of the armrests. He had no power here, he knew that, but he felt worse than useless doing nothing. The woman he... what, loved? Was lying on the bed, bleeding out, because of him, and he couldn't help. Part of him wanted to storm off and confront Anahera. She'd been so eager to keep her hands clean in all of this but now she was happy enough to sully them, and over this? Over a woman she'd never met—a woman he barely knew himself?

  It was his fault, plain and simple. He did this and he would have to find a way to make it up to Samantha, to make it up to all of these people because this was the final nail in the coffin. Anahera might have his soul, but she didn't own his heart and he would fight back with every breath he had.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  There was so much pain.

  Samantha gasped. "Kyle," she murmured, and he was there, his hand in hers, the looks on Alyssa and Brandon's faces twin masks of confusion.

  "You're not in the state for me to ask what the fuck you've gotten yourself into Sam, but don't think for a minute I'm not going to interrogate you when you're through this." Alyssa gave her a grin. "This is going to hurt for a bit longer and I'm going to need an assist, it looks like the bullet was coated in something. Do you think your dear old Dad would be willing to help?" Alyssa raised her eyebrows, and Samantha closed her eyes. She'd never thought she'd have to contact her father directly.

  He was there, in the night sky, always watching over her from his slumber. They didn't need to communicate.

  But Alyssa had gone deep in her connection with Papatūānuku, and perhaps if Sam were to do the same they could summon the power between them to solve the issue of Anahera, once and for all.

  "We can try," she said softly. "You know how to do this better than I. We don't have the others..."

  "We have enough. Mother will help, Brandon is here to shorten the distance between us."

  "I'm here too. I can't do anything but hold your hand, but I'm here," Kyle said, gripping her tighter.

  She squeezed back with the little strength she had. "It's enough." And she meant it. Somehow he'd managed not to get kicked out of the house and he was here, with her. She had to stay alive.

  "Okay." She exhaled, closed her eyes, wincing at the pain. She wanted to curl in on herself but any movement made the pain worse. The smell of incense hit her nostrils and she almost laughed. Alyssa was always giving her grief over her fragrances, and yet apparently she was secretly using them at home. It smelled like earth and pine, bringing back the feeling from Rover's Bend when they’d helped Alyssa align with her powers. Sam breathed deeply, trying to tune into that feeling and tune out of the pain.

  It was too hard, she curled in, groaned with the agony of it. Kyle wrapped his arms around her holding her tenderly, his chest against her back. Then there was a deep rumble, a purr, emanating from his body and Sam felt safe. Kyle was there. Shadow was there. They were the same and they wouldn't let anything happen to her.

  Alyssa had begun to hum, Brandon's lower tone blended in, seamless as though they did this all the time, and who knew, maybe they did. Alyssa pressed her hands against Sam's body, front and back, cupping her wounds. The pain alleviated a little, but it wasn't enough.

  "Rehua, star-child, son of Papatūānuku and Ranginui, your child is in need." There was a crackle in the air, suddenly it was colder than it could be.

  You wake me for mortal reasons, reasons that concern me not.

  "I'm dying." Samantha gasped the words out. "Please, help me father."

  It felt like there was a sigh, a pause. It is not my purpose to meddle. I'm sorry.

  She could feel the warmth returning to the room, the pain rushing back into her body. "Someone is coming to get you. She's coming for all of you and unless you help me, help us, there will be no one t
o stop her."

  "Please, Rehua. She needs your magic, infuse her with it, make her your beacon, your warrior, a star on earth to protect you and your brothers. It's what you made us for, isn't it? If you meddled that much it's the least you can do to help us now." Alyssa's voice was firm, and then it changed quality, the tone deepening and the smell of earth filled the room bringing warmth back to it. "My child, you will save your blood, and in doing so protect your brothers, protect me. I've laboured for so long but I need help now. I've asked so little of you over the years, you must do this now."

  Sam couldn't breathe. Everything crushed in on her as she waited, waited. It took so long for Rehua to respond that she felt sure he wasn't going to, but then the chill flooded back in, this time it seeped into her body through the bullet hole, the feel of it so cold she twisted tighter into herself. Alyssa's hands still gripped her, sending flares of warmth, the healing powers of the earth and stars combining to knit the wound and cure the poison within. A tremor wracked her body, but Kyle's arms held her firm, held her together.

  Finally, the chill abated. Alyssa drew back, letting her hands fall from the wounds. Sam looked up at her, saw her pale skin as Brandon caught her and they sank to the floor together.

  "You do too much of this," he muttered. "And I love you for it, but it's gotta stop, you can't keep this up."

  "I had to, for her."

  "For her, yes, but no putting yourself in harm's way."

  "Oh you'd pull me back from death's door, I know you."

  Samantha could hear the laugh in Alyssa's voice, even if she couldn't see her face. She closed her eyes, tried to figure out how she was feeling but she couldn't get clear on it. Kyle pulled away, letting her lie flat on the table, and then the chill of space invaded her again.

  I do care, Rehua said. It's just that everything looks so small from here, so far away. I struggle to find myself in that. But you are my child, and this is your purpose. Protect me, protect our mother. Save yourself.

  And then he was gone and she was free from his hold. She sucked in a lungful of air, finally feeling like the grip of fear on her chest had loosened. She wasn't going to die, not today, and her father had spoken to her.

  "Are you okay?" Kyle asked. She'd uncurled, was lying on her back now, and he was nervously lifting the edge of her shirt to see the wound.

  Sam looked down as well, saw that it had all but healed, the wound a patch of new, pink skin. "I'm okay. I'm..." She exhaled and lay back down, shivering. "I'm tired, but I'm okay. Can you get me a blanket?"

  "Should we clean up..." He indicated the blood stained sheet but she shook her head, she needed rest more than cleanliness.

  "Later. Right now I just want to sleep." She closed her eyes as he pulled the blanket up. "Don't go anywhere. Please?"

  "I'll stay close. I promise." He pressed a kiss to her forehead and she closed her eyes, feeling secure, safe.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Kyle watched her for a moment and then moved to the other side of the bed where Brandon and Alyssa were still sitting on the floor.

  "I still don't trust you, and I don't know what this is." Alyssa waved a hand between Kyle and Samantha. "But right now more than anything I need a drink. Alcoholic. Go into the kitchen and make yourself useful."

  He nodded. She wasn't a big woman but she was intimidating, even exhausted.

  "Wine is in the fridge. Bring it to the lounge," Brandon added. He stood and helped Alyssa to her feet. Kyle took that as his cue to leave.

  He'd not stopped to look at the house on his way in, his only focus had been Samantha, but now that she was safe he looked at everything. There were family portraits on the walls, paintings of spots that looked to be local. The wooden floors shined like they'd been polished recently. He poked his head into a room—the kitchen, thankfully—and made his way to the sink, turning the water up hot and scrubbing his hands before anything else.

  Red tinged the water, and he had to rub hard to get the stain of blood from his skin. What if he'd killed Alyssa? What if it had been her blood on his hands—the stain would never come off. He'd have done it too, if it hadn't been for Samantha. She'd saved him from taking a step he couldn't return from, and for that she'd almost died.

  And now here they were.

  He shook his hands off over the sink then used the tea towel to dry them, then he found the fridge, grabbed the first bottle of wine he saw and headed back down the hallway, following the murmured sounds of conversation to find the lounge.

  They stopped talking as soon as he appeared in the doorway. Alyssa legs were tucked beneath a blanket and she rested her head on Brandon's shoulder. They looked like any normal couple and he could forget for a moment that she was the child of Papatūānuku and he was something else.

  "Sit. But give me that first." Alyssa reached for the bottle, and it was only then he realized he hadn't grabbed a glass. She didn't seem to mind though, unscrewing the cap and tipping the bottle back. She wiped her mouth and handed it to Brandon who did the same.

  "We don't normally drink at this hour of the day, but it's not your average day. Is it?" Brandon passed the bottle back to Alyssa before he spoke again. "What's going on? I gather the two of you have talked."

  Kyle nodded slowly. "I know you don't trust me, but before I say anything else I want to thank you for saving her. I don't know what you did, but thank you."

  "You can thank the gods because it's only due to their help that we managed." Alyssa sighed. "I thought he wasn't going to help, I was so afraid. He's so cold, so distant... But she's safe now. No thanks to you."

  "Hey, I didn't shoot her!" Kyle shot up from the chair. "I had no idea that was going to happen, and I brought her here, I got her help. If anything had happened to her...."

  "You'd, what?" Alyssa challenged him.

  "I don't know. I'd something. Look, this is all new to me. I've not been... I don't know how to explain it.” Kyle looked at her, then decided the only way to show them he meant no harm was total transparency. “I sold my soul and until recently I didn't feel the things I'm feeling now and this is all new."

  "I know all about you,” Brandon said. He sounded tired, but accepting. “She knows too, but she couldn't quite believe it. The fact that you're the long lost soul mate of our good friend in there doesn't really change that you're on the wrong side of this war."

  "But I'm not. That's what I was coming to tell Samantha. She's all that matters. I would do anything for her. I know that what I've done in the past is wrong but I can't change that, I can only change what I do in the future. And now."

  "I just don't know how we can trust you. Your soul belongs to this woman. Anahera?" Alyssa raised an eyebrow.

  Kyle nodded. "Samantha think she’s Tū's child, but she's never really said. I think... I mean, she doesn't talk about it, but I know that she accidentally killed him and thinks doing away with his brothers will earn her forgiveness."

  "Killing the gods, once and for all."

  Kyle sighed, slumping back in his chair. "I'm still getting my head around that..."

  "If you can sell your soul to the devil, then why shouldn't gods be real?" Brandon quirked an eyebrow, and then he laughed. Alyssa joined him, and Kyle sat there, watching the two of them chuckle with each other. He felt so small in this chair, this room, this world. It had been easier when he hadn't felt anything other than rage or determination. He'd felt more pain in the past few days than he had in the prior decade—emotional pain, which was so much worse than physical.

  Kyle leaned forward, gestured for the bottle and was surprised when Alyssa actually passed it over. He uncapped it, knocked back a swig and swallowed deep. Oh that tasted good, and it took the edge off, just a little.

  His phone vibrated in his pocket and he froze. The ringer started up and all eyes snapped to him.

  "It's going to be her, isn't it," Alyssa said.

  He nodded, putting the bottle on the floor and reaching for his phone. Her name was right there on the screen
and his fingers shook. "I have to..."

  Brandon shook his head, but Alyssa nodded. "Put it on speaker."

  He hesitated a moment longer and then answered. "Anahera." It wasn't hard to keep his voice cool, the battle was keeping the loathing out of it.

  "Did she die yet?" Her voice wavered slightly at the end, as if she was conflicted over whether she wanted it to be true.

  "Why should I tell you? If you didn't stick around long enough to make sure then that's on you." He bit the words out, then added. "What changed? You're not one to get your hands dirty and this... Hell, you've only just recently asked me to take a life for you, and then there you were, my gun in your hand."

  Anahera didn't respond for a minute, though they could hear her shallow breath through the speaker. "I couldn't stomach the thought of you with her. You belong to me. You are to do my bidding, and you don't need distractions."

  "She wasn't a distraction! She was a nice person."

  "Was? So she is dead. Good."

  Kyle opened his mouth to correct Anahera, but Alyssa mouthed 'no' emphatically. He kept silent.

  "So when are you coming back?"

  "What? You think I'm coming back after that stunt." He shook his head, slamming back into his chair. "I don't want anything to do with you."

  "And your soul? You think I can't make you come back?"

  "I don't need it," he said, though his heart thudded in his chest when he did. Could he manage without it? He'd done okay so far, and he didn't care about what came after this life if it meant he had to be chained to her for longer than necessary. After what she'd done to Sam his belief that she would hold true to her bargain had shattered.

  "Oh, you do need it. You need it more than you know. You'll come home and I'll be waiting for you, until then, stay out of trouble huh?" Her voice was conflicted, pitching at strange points so that the words and intent had no cohesion.

  Kyle had no idea what to make of it. "Yeah, maybe take your own advice." He hit the end button and stared at the phone before dropping it on the arm of the chair.