by Nova Nelson
She merely nodded once before hollering over her shoulder, “Mom! Nora Ashcroft wants to talk to you.”
Sasha, who looked well on her way with winding down for the night, pulled a silk robe closer to her around her nightgown as she appeared in the living room a moment later. Greta wandered off without another word.
“What can I help you with?” she said. Then quickly, “Is everything okay?”
I knew that look of alarm all too well. But to be fair, I did sort of run with Death. “Everything’s fine. I just wanted to give you something.” I reached in my pocket and pulled out the letter. “It’s from Dmitri.” I handed it to her and said, “Don’t read it now.”
Did I want to spare her the embarrassment of emotions in front of me? Why, of course. I can be sensitive and thoughtful when I try.
But mostly, I didn’t think I could handle seeing her break down. It’d been a long day, and it was everything I could do not to have a good cry myself. And because there wasn’t any time blocked for it in my schedule for the rest of that endless day, it would have to wait.
She nodded but peeked at a corner anyway. It must have been the sight of his handwriting that dredged up the emotion and brought moisture to her eyes. “You spoke with him?”
“Yes.”
He said, “Tell her I’m here.”
I ignored him.
“Will you speak with him again?”
“I will.”
“Tell him I’m sorry. It always should have been him. I was just so hurt that he never… I was hurt and I wanted to hurt him.”
I stuck my hands deep into my pants pockets. “Yeah, love can be like that.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, sniffing and running a finger under each eyelid to wipe away the spillover. “I haven’t been the nicest to you. I shouldn’t have made Greta quit. She loves that job, and you’ve been nothing but nice to her.”
Yikes. I cannot tell you how much I didn’t want to do this right then. “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “No one trusts me. Heck, I don’t even trust myself, a lot of the time.”
She nodded, and her eyes returned to the letter. “Tell him I always loved him.”
Now, I should pause here to say that I only assumed what Dmitri wrote in his letter was something lovely and sentimental. For all I knew, he could have told her to drop dead. He never told me. I hoped it was nothing like that, but you never know.
“I think he knows,” I said. “But I’ll tell him.”
He stood silently beside me, not saying a word, only staring at her for the last time.
“We’ll let you get some sleep then,” I said.
“We?”
Swirls.
“Uh, yeah. Sorry. Me and Grim. He’s just sort of, um, lurking in the shadows.”
“Ah okay.”
“Take care of yourself, Sasha.”
* * *
Dmitri said he needed some time to recharge, and I didn’t fight him on it as I climbed the stairs up to my room. The door was open, and Monster and Grim were already snoozing on his dog bed. But my tired and clumsy footsteps on the baseboards woke them.
“Where’ve you been?”
“I don’t even know where to start. Can we just talk about it in the morning? It’s been a long day.”
“Monster wants me to tell you that you should take her with you when you go through the portal.”
“I’m not going through the portal.”
“I told her you’d say that.”
“You did?”
“I did. I also told her it didn’t mean anything. You’ll be going through that portal one way or another.”
And now I switched to our silent connection for a little privacy from the feline eavesdropper. “I’m not going through it. But I am going to close it. And I might need your help.”
“You mean my protection. From Malavic.”
“Precisely. But like I said, let’s just talk about this in the morning. I got nothing left tonight.”
I slipped into my pj’s—always a little weird with Grim around even though he seemed to be totally uninterested in my naked form, being perpetually naked himself—and then crawled into bed.
My head hitting the pillow was like the starting gun of a relay race. My mind sprinted at full speed, passing the baton between conundrums. I squeezed my eyes tight, but that didn’t help. I resigned myself to a maddening sleepless night filled with swirling images of Donovan kissing me behind Franco’s, Sasha’s teary eyes, Dmitri’s dead body, and—seared into my psyche for all eternity—my last glimpse of Tanner rushing after Eva right as the portal in the Deadwoods shrank to a pinprick and disappeared.
How much time had passed, ten minutes? Three hours? Something heavy caused the mattress to dip, and while it pulled me from my spiraling thoughts, I didn’t have to open my eyes to know what it was. The shifting weight of giant paws moved farther up the bed before plopping down on my legs. Grim’s breath whooshed out of him in a small grunt as he flopped. And a moment later, tiny, featherlight feet tugged the quilt tight as Monster crept to curl up against my chest.
They were brazenly violating our agreed-upon sleeping arrangements.
But they were so snuggly…
So I pretended to already be asleep. And then, a moment later, I was.
Chapter Twenty-One
I took the following day off from work, just called Bryant first thing and offered to pay him an entire gold coin to cover for me. Since I was his boss, I could have paid him nothing and just told him to do it, and he’d have had to. But that would have caused problems later, so it was worth it to pay him off for his trouble.
It should have felt great, having a day away from the demands and complaints of Medium Rare customers. Random days off were some of my favorite. The world was my oyster and whatnot! But not on this day. If anything, the world was feeling a little like one of those oysters that kills you within forty-eight hours of eating it.
It was a mild summer morning and would have been quite lovely in another context. The sky was powder blue with occasional cotton ball clouds wafting across. Sunflowers were in full bloom along the sides of the road, and birds chirped and swooped from tree to tree.
And I was on my way to ceremoniously remove a hunk of my newest friend’s flesh.
Dmitri, who walked beside me, didn’t seem put off by what was required in the ritual. The time alone to recharge had apparently helped him process his last interaction with Sasha, and there was a little extra pep in his float.
Grim padded along on the other side of me, holding himself rather stiffly and awkwardly. The illicit snuggling must have given him a crick in his back.
I turned to Dmitri. “You’re not anxious at all?”
He pouted his lips and shrugged. “No. Why would I be?”
I hated to even bring it up if he wasn’t already considering it, but my curiosity was too far ahead of me. “Because you don’t know what’s next. Once the knot is cut, you move on.”
“Right. That’s how it goes, I’m told. Do you know what’s next?”
I wished I did. But at the same time, I was glad I didn’t. “I’ve only heard bits and pieces, so I don’t know with certainty. Although, based on personal experience, I do recommend against lingering in the in-between place to track down a lover from a past life when she enters the next life. It’s just not worth it.”
His mouth hung open slightly, and he arched an eyebrow at me. “You’ve done that?”
“No, but I’ve been the former lover on the receiving end of it. And that level of stalking is simply unrivaled, let me tell you.”
He laughed, and I knew instantly I would miss the sound once it was gone. “You must have been a goddess in a past life.”
I cringed. “I can tell you with some certainty that I was not. At least not in any of the last five.”
“Then farther back than that. It’s the only possible explanation.”
“For what?”
“Maybe you were a goddess of love or lust
or obsession, and that’s why you have more men chasing after you than you can handle.”
“Ulch,” I said, “gag me. No, the more likely explanation is that I make poor romantic choices.”
He nodded solemnly. “Yeah, that makes sense, too.”
We entered the cool air of the sheriff’s department where the rest of our group were already waiting. Stu Manchester was chatting in low tones with Sheriff Bloom and Jingo, and Darius Pine was sitting on one of the flimsy benches in the waiting area, running a hand back and forth over his hair while staring vaguely at the floor.
The sound of Grim and I entering caught their attention, and Bloom glided forward to greet us. “Good. You brought him, didn’t you?”
“Seemed fair to let him come.”
“And he won’t try to stop it?”
“No, he’s ready to move on to the next thing.”
She nodded. “He may change his mind, and if he does, I’ll expect you to handle it so we can complete the ceremony.”
“Sheesh,” Dmitri said, “what’s a guy gotta do to get a little trust around here?”
From the side of my mouth, I mumbled, “Not cast dark leprechaun curses on Darius Pine, apparently.”
He rolled his eyes. “One time. I only did it one time.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. I hated that I hadn’t known him in life, but that was how it went sometimes. Things didn’t work out the way you wanted them to, and everything was a little sad.
And, to be honest, I was worried about what would happen once we untethered him. Where would he go, and would it be pleasant?
The questions could be endless if I let them. And I was starting to believe that was for a clear purpose. Uncertainty can be healthy sometimes.
Bloom led us down to where Dmitri’s body was laid out in the examination room.
Grim yelped just before we entered the room, and I whirled around to check on him. His tail was between his legs and he hung his head. “Just a side stitch. Must have slept wrong.”
“Is he okay?” Darius asked. He seemed anxious, on edge, and it was clear from his expression that Grim’s sudden noise was more than unwelcome while his nerves were in such a state.
“Yeah. I think he just slept funny last night. He says he’s fine.” I suggested Grim wait outside of the exam room, and he agreed without argument.
Our group gathered around the body on the table, and Bloom did the honors of pulling down the sheet just far enough to expose the tattoo. He didn’t look any the worse for the time that had passed, and holy shifter was I glad for that small mercy. This was already going to be unpleasant, and adding a decomposing body to it wouldn’t have made it any better.
And then they all looked at me.
Oh right. I was the only one who knew the ritual, aside from the ghost no one else could see.
I reached in my waistband where I’d tucked the ritual dagger O’Leary had loaned me the night before. I unsheathed it and offered it to Darius. “The curse is attached to you, so you have to do the cutting.”
“The… cutting?” His tan face now held a hint of green. For the head of a werebear sleuth, he sure was squeamish.
“Yeah. I’ll explain as we go.”
He nodded and took the dagger. “And this… you’re sure this is the reason I’ve had such poor luck in romance?”
“It’s definitely a large part of it.”
“And once we sever this cord, I won’t keep messing everything up with women?”
“I can’t promise you that. I mean, you still have to be nice and interesting. But you won’t have a curse holding you back. If you bomb, it’s all on you.”
Darius Pine nodded and then said, “What do I do?”
I told him, step-by-step, before he began, but I didn’t mention the last step—the one involving the dagger—which I thought might keep him from ever getting started. I handed him the slip of paper with the incantation written on it. Werebears weren’t magical practitioners by nature, but anyone, given the right spells and tools, could do something like this.
“Any questions?” I asked.
“No.” He moved forward and slashed the dagger through the air between his heart and Dmitri’s, once, twice, thrice. Then began reading the words slowly and deliberately from the sheet of paper.
As he did, I glanced at the spirit of the deceased, trying to get a read on his expression. His eyes were glued to his own face.
“What is it?” I asked him.
Dmitri frowned. “I just want to remember what I looked like. Maybe that’s vain, but I want to remember myself, even after I move on. I don’t want to lose everything I’ve learned and experienced in this life. I don’t want my memory to fade into nothingness.”
I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to assure him it wouldn’t, but I had a feeling it would, especially once he moved onto another life. And, strangely enough, I suspected that the oblivion was the greatest mercy we could ever experience, to forget ourselves completely, to lose our sense of self—our vanity, identity, ego, superego—and simply become nothing. And everything. At least until it was our time to start all over again. To start fresh.
“We’ll remember you,” I said. “I’ll remember you. Even if you forget yourself, I’ll remember who you are. That’s what friends do.”
Darius finished reciting the words looked up from the paper. “Okay, is that it?”
“Not yet,” I said, readying myself to explain the last nasty bit. “There’s one more step.”
“And that is?”
“The dagger. You have to cut the mark out of him.”
Darius’s face twisted into disgust. “And do what with it?”
“Burn it. Cutting it out sends him on his way, and burning it closes the door behind him. The book said he can never return after that.”
I sensed Darius’s hesitancy deep inside my chest. It was the typical energy people gave off when suddenly facing the concept of forever.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “It’s doing him a favor.”
Cringing, Darius leaned over the corpse and pressed the blade against skin.
I’ll spare you the details. Mostly because I didn’t see them. I had no desire to watch, and besides, Dmitri pulled my attention away from it.
“Thanks,” he said. “I owe you one.”
“After all your advice, which, yes, I did actually listen to, I think we’re even.”
“Will you look after Sasha?”
“I don’t think I’ll have to.” I nodded at Darius, who was focusing so hard on his task that his tongue stuck out between his lips.
“That guy?” Dmitri said. “You think he can take care of her?” He sighed, and his form began fading fast. “I guess I’ll just have to trust him.”
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything too stupid.”
“I guess that’s all I can ask for. Especially considering it was my own stupidity that got us in this mess.”
“Don’t take it so hard.”
“Why not? It won’t be for long.”
Dmitri was hardly more than a mirage then. Darius was almost done.
“Happy trails,” I said awkwardly. Not my usual go-to farewell, but it just came out. What? This was a strange situation, even for a psychic. I was off my game.
Dmitri’s voice fluttered out as hardly more than a whisper. “Happy trails?”
“It’s just a thing we use to say in my own world. It means, um, have a good ride.”
And then I heard his pleasant chuckle for the very last time. “I like it. Happy trails to you, Nora.”
And then Dmitri Flint, East Wind witch and my newest friend, disappeared.
Forever.
“Do I have to… touch it?” came Darius’s voice.
I turned back toward the body, the grisly scene hitting me like a bucket of cold water. I crinkled up my nose. “I don’t think so.”
Bloom instructed Stu to grab some gloves and a small evidence bag, and the deputy hustled over to a small table
and returned with the goods. And a few seconds later, it was, as they say, all over but the crying.
And, you know, burning the flesh. But I had no intention of being present for that.
Going from the cold chill of the exam room out into the hot summer air felt like a fever breaking. Or maybe it was saying goodbye to Dmitri that made me feel that way.
Darius stood next to me on the top step of the stairs leading up to the building. He held a small metal biscuit tin in which we’d tucked away the gory talisman (it was the only suitable container we could find for the baggie so he wouldn’t have to look at it). Neither us nor Grim made to leave yet. “So, I just burn it?” asked the werebear.
“Yeah. Burn it and… maybe spread his ashes in some of his old haunts. Outside Sheehan’s Pub, Rainbow Falls, Fluke Mountain. Places from his life where we can remember him, where people can visit if they want.”
He nodded, and I saw his eyes grow red.
“He didn’t mean to do it,” I said. Then I quickly added, “Well, at first he did. Definitely. But he didn’t know the curse was still around once the two of you made right.”
“Yeah, I figured as much. He was the kind of guy who let you know if he didn’t like you. And I could tell we were actually friends.”
“I’m glad you remember him that way. And do me a favor,” I added. “Don’t finish this process alone.”
He appeared suddenly hopeful. “You’ll do it with me?”
“Oh, hellhound no! Not a chance.” I reeled it back in. No point in reminding him how unpleasant the rest of the counter-curse would be. “Maybe see if Sasha will do it with you.”
He jerked his head back. “Sasha? Like, Ansel’s Sasha?”
“Or your Sasha, yeah. Her.”
He immediately looked away, taking in the view from where we stood. “She won’t want to do it. Not with me.”
“I have reason to believe she might want to remember him, too.”
Again, this was me assuming the letter from Dmitri hadn’t explicitly told her to eat a pile of dragon dung.
Darius sighed, his bulky shoulder deflating. “Well, when you have reason to believe something, I find it’s better not to ask what that reason is, and just to do it.”