Mangled Read online

  He nodded, but he looked more relaxed. “I wasn’t expecting her to go looking for me,” he said softly. “Won’t happen again.”

  I stood. “Good. I was having a good dream before you morons interrupted. I’m going back to bed.”

  I was almost to the bedroom when Tommy called to me. “Were you dreaming about Cloud?”

  I didn’t look at him. “What? Fuck no. That’s stupid. You’re stupid. Goodnight.”

  I slammed the door against the sound of his stupid laughter.

  At least my ghoul could still smile.

  I leaned my head back against the wooden door, breathing deep and trying to find myself. I had ruined Tommy’s life. He should be out there dating and getting married and raising little blond moron babies. Not half-dead and dependent on me to keep from rotting while he pined after some girl he’d never have a future with.

  I stared at my bed. My eyelids were heavy, my brain was foggy, and the fucking sun was still taunting me. I needed to sleep. But I remembered my dreams, and I didn’t know if I could stand the waking up again.

  Chapter 9

  I woke that night still feeling tired. Maybe it was just because of my interrupted sleep that day.

  Maybe.

  But I had a sick feeling that it was more than that. The dogman had said his magic was only a temporary fix for the madness. I was missing vital nutrients. Like human nutrients. Too bad the drugstore didn’t carry a flesh, blood, and pain multi-vitamin for the wendigo-tainted.

  I scrubbed a hand over my face and stood. I still felt a restlessness that had nothing to do with hunting. The creatures of the forest called to me with their unease. I threw on a sweater and a pair of jeans and padded out into the cold night in my bare feet.

  Standing on my back porch, I gazed out at the treeline. Part of me had already accepted these creatures as my responsibility. But another part of me still resisted. That part insisted that we run for our life. Because caring for people—even non-human people—was a path that would only lead to pain.

  Ahanu flew in and landed on the porch railing near my arm. The traitor bird wisely didn’t try to land on my shoulder like the good old days. I ignored him.

  “Go walk among them,” the little boy’s ghostly voice suggested.

  I wanted to tell him to go mind his own fucking business, but it was hard to swear at him when he was in his little boy form. Damn it.

  “Why?”

  He heaved a gusty sigh. “The ancestors called it a spirit quest. Even if they later forgot which spirits they were meant to walk with.”

  I shook my head. “Too bad for you. I’m not Native American. Darn. No creepy spiritual shit for me today.”

  “Tess, you are touched by the spirit of death. The creatures who are the living embodiments of the earth are begging you to be theirs. This human stubbornness…this blindness of yours. Why do you cling to it?”

  I refused to justify that shit with a comment.

  The ghost boy turned bird and had the balls to flutter up to perch on my shoulder, tangling his talons in the fabric of my sweater and pecking at my hair.

  I wondered what raven tasted like? Would harboring a ghost child give it a smoky flavor?

  Sighing, I stepped down off the porch and headed into the woods. I wasn’t out here to walk with spirits, I told myself firmly. I just needed some fresh air. Early onset cabin fever in anticipation of the coming winter.

  That sounded weak even to me.

  I walked slowly through the woods, my senses trailing outward, not seeking anything, but absorbing. Drawing in the cool darkness of the night, the muffled forest sounds, and the comfortable energy of the creatures who called my forest home. I had no trouble seeing the creatures, even in the pitch-black of the almost moonless night. They all had a faint silvery glow about them.

  Frost had fallen, creeping over the dried leaves and debris on the forest floor. It crunched faintly under my bare feet as I walked.

  The stag that I had saved from deer hunters a few months back came to walk at my side. She could speak to me in my mind, but today she was silent. Her strangely beautiful horns trailed Spanish moss and wildflowers and her silver coat sparkled.

  We walked in silence and I felt others join in the dark parade. Their energy around me felt right. It felt…almost whole. If there was still a hole in my chest where my frozen heart had once been…well at least the bleeding seemed to slow for a time.

  The madness that constantly clamored in my mind seemed to quiet as well. To recede a bit.

  Then Death slipped from the shadows. He was in his black hare form today. The rabbit hopped forward slowly on its long, powerful back legs, walking in that adorably awkward way of creatures who were not meant to move slowly. I didn’t speak out loud. For some reason I was hesitant to disturb the soothing silence around me.

  But I looked at the black hare and thought with all my heart. Why me? Why had the god dogged my footsteps since I was a child? What had I ever done to be punished this way? What the hell did he want from me?

  The rabbit cocked its head, one ear flicking forward and one flicking back, as if listening for danger. I sank down to sit cross-legged in front of the animal with a suddenness that startled me, as if I was a marionette with my strings cut.

  Then…I wasn’t in the forest anymore.

  I was a seven-year-old girl. I stood in a hospital room looking at my mommy. Tears were streaming down my face. I was scared. Confused. She didn’t look right. I was used to the way she looked now, after the sickness had taken away her wonderfully padded curves and soft places. The way her big brown eyes had looked like glowing lamps in her sunken cheeks. But she wasn’t moving now. Why wouldn’t she open her eyes? Any minute now, she would look at me with that happy sadness in her face and tell me to come give her a hug.

  Dad was there. He sat in a chair by the bed, and it was as if I didn’t exist. He stroked mom’s hair back from her face and his hand shook violently. How silly. Why was he flapping his hand around like that?

  Why was he making that noise? Like he was broken.

  He hunched forward and lay his head on my mom’s chest, his whole body heaving as he sobbed in big, broken fits. Adults didn’t cry like that.

  The tall shadow man that was always watching me stood in the corner, where it was dark. His eyes were blue like mine. Like my daddy’s. Daddy was scaring me. I went to the corner and slouched down with my back against the wall and my arms around my knees.

  Mommy. Mommy, mommy, mommy. No, no, no, no, no! They told me this would happen. When she got sick, mommy said one day she would go away. But she said she would always be with me, even when she was gone. I didn’t get it. She wasn’t here. She was just gone. Gone, gone, gone. And Daddy was broken. And now I was broken too, because my face was wet and my body wouldn’t stop shaking.

  The shadow man reached out and patted my head. He was cold. But I wasn’t afraid. Because he felt sad like me. She lived and died beautifully.

  The world jolted.

  The hospital again. Damn it I hate fucking hospitals.

  I was an adult now.

  I didn’t want to be an adult. I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to be alive anymore. Not now. Not for this. A doctor was holding on to my arms as I tried to hit him. He was old, and his eyes had kind patience in them as I tried to murder him.

  He was supposed to save my son.

  Toby.

  Barrett’s arms were around me then, pulling me away from the doctor, squeezing me so hard it hurt. Toby was lying still and quiet in his hospital bed. No more fragile smiles. No more jokes about my bad hair days or how bad the hospital food was. No more talk of what he was going to do first when he got back home. He wasn’t going home. Ever. He wasn’t going to ride his bike, or color pictures for me, or leave his toys all over the house.

  The waves of panic, and pain, and the need to escape it all overwhelmed me. Barrett squeezed me tighter, his solid, strong bulk holding me down, anchoring me. The shadows in the cor
ner of the room rippled. I got a sense of sadness and…curiosity there. But I didn’t register that at the time.

  Suddenly I was watching the scene from a few feet away. And my spirit eyes could see what my human eyes had not seen then. Death stroked my head, then went to crouch by Toby’s bed. He smiled softly, eyes sad and deep.

  Beautiful little boy of your heart. So perfect.

  Barrett dug his fingers into my skin as he clung to me. “I’m right here,” he whispered. “We’re still here. It…we’ll get through this. Somehow.”

  Then I was away again. The hospital, but not a patient room this time. The ER. Beeping and alarms and noise. People calling out orders and rushing around. But not where I was headed. The rushing was over in the room I was guided to. That frantic energy was reserved for the patients who could still be saved.

  Barrett. He was covered up to his chin. I tried not to notice how a spot further down seemed to be getting dark under the covering. Tried not to think of blood oozing from whatever damage that thin barrier hid.

  His face was pale. There was a long gash down one side of his face from his temple, across his cheek, to his mouth. He looked foreign now, without his warmth, without that vital thing that was Barrett.

  I felt like I was going to throw up. But I had insisted on coming in here and seeing him, even when the doctors said that I should give it a little time. They probably wanted to clean things up more, make viewing my husband more sterile.

  I registered dimly that there were still a few smears of blood on the floor. Instruments on a covered tray that were waiting to be wheeled away.

  But none of that really mattered. Hiding the evidence would not make him less dead.

  Barrett was dead.

  How could he leave me? He was supposed to keep me from falling apart. I ached at the phantom memory of his solid bulk, his strong arms wrapped around me.

  “No,” I whispered. I couldn’t. I could not do this.

  I started hyperventilating. I couldn’t remember exactly how his voice sounded. I wanted to see his eyes. Shit. Shit. Shit. A clawing panic overtook me, and I wanted to run, scream, destroy the world.

  But I stood there frozen. Shaking.

  One of the medical staff had come with me, but they were quiet. Unobtrusive.

  I was alone.

  A soothing numbness fell over me. I went black, cold. I pulled on a blanket of numbness that would let me walk out of that room and survive the night. “I love you,” I whispered, tears falling like rivers.

  The me that was the observer saw it again. The things my human eyes had not known. Death stood at my side, holding my hand.

  I wanted to touch Barrett one last time. But I was afraid. Death cocked his head as if listening, thinking. Then the shadowy man put a hand between my shoulder blades and pushed me forward.

  At the time I thought I stumbled numbly forward through some strange surge in resolve.

  I ran a shaking hand through Barrett’s soft hair. I kissed his forehead for the last time.

  And another piece of me died.

  I drew in a sharp breath as I found myself sitting on the forest floor once more, staring into the curious face of the black hare.

  “You were there every fucking time.”

  The rabbit drew a front paw over a long ear as if cleaning himself.

  “Why? Why are you doing this to me?”

  My voice was harsh against the silence of the forest. The creatures around me had drawn back from us. Not in fear but in reverence to the God before them.

  I had no reverence for the asshole.

  Then I was gone again. Damned Gods and spirits. Assholes every one of them.

  The girl-child played in the woods. I kept to the shadows, so I wouldn’t scare her. She was curious about everything. Human children were such an enigma, so full of life, so open.

  I felt strange emotions when I spent time around humans. They were strange. But they were entertaining. I wanted to know what they felt when they did all the strange things they did.

  This one was happy. She was curious about everything. And her bright, quick mind made up stories and fantasies as she played.

  I didn’t get to be this close to humans. They felt me and were afraid. They blamed me for my part of the natural cycle of energy in the world. I don’t know why I spent so much time with this one. But I knew I would see her many times anyway. So, what could it hurt to spend a little more time observing her?

  I watched from the shadows, trailing along over hill and stream, climbing trees, running through the mudflats by the river, collecting animal bones and bird’s eggs and wildflowers.

  The girl started to feel…precious to me. I stood by her while her eyes grew sad. She didn’t know that death was part of life. I watched her learn that. I did not understand the emotions she showed me. But she was in pain. I soothed her when I could. I stood by her when I could not.

  She couldn’t see me anymore. And when she finally could, I learned a new emotion from her. Hatred. She hated me. She blamed me. The way they all do.

  But she was not a faceless human. She was mine. My child. My gift. I did something I had never done before. Never thought to do.

  When she was fated to die to feed the wendigo, I refused her the touch of death.

  When the wendigo became feral, jealous, upset that I had ruined the natural balance of things, I knew I had made a mistake. But I wasn’t sorry.

  Because the child was mine. More dear to me than my other children. And I could feel powers gathering around her. Perhaps even my strange intervention in her life had been part of the universal plan. Part of the Great Spirit’s will. Because now she had a destiny. My child was a protector, a savior, but one touched by pain. Etched by it. She had what others would not have—the eyes of the spirit world and the heart of a human.

  I slammed back into my own body again and sat glaring at the dumb rabbit.

  “Fucking stop doing that. I’m going to hurl.”

  I put my head in my hands and breathed the cool, damp night air, trying to process whatever the fuck that had been. I lifted my head to yell at the goddamned bunny rabbit death god. But he was gone.

  “Coward!” I yelled, startling an owl from its perch in a nearby tree.

  The creatures had drawn close to me again. The stag nudged me with a velvety muzzle to my shoulder and I glared. “I have the creepiest stalker ever known to man,” I informed her. “What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”

  The stag shook her massive horns and gave me a look that I swear was exasperated. You protect us, she insisted in my mind in her careful, difficult human-speak.

  I didn’t have it in me to explain to her that when I said the forest was “protected” I had meant that it was national forest land and hunting wasn’t permitted here. Not that I my fucking self was its protector. She wouldn’t listen. No one ever did when it came to what I wanted anyway.

  Sighing, I heaved myself to my feet.

  I started back toward the house, but I halted when my creature entourage suddenly scattered in fear.

  What the fuck now?

  Chapter 10

  I relaxed my stance a bit when I saw what had the creatures withdrawing. Cal.

  The witch walked toward me cautiously, those sharp blue eyes darting around, cataloging the creatures that peered at us from a safe distance. I think they mistrusted his magic, which was so similar to the magic the hunters used.

  “There are so many of them,” Cal breathed.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “What are you doing here?” It was the middle of the night. Or way too early in the morning…I guess it depended on how you looked at it. I wondered if witches were nocturnal like wendigos and most of the other monsters.

  Cal stopped and put his hands in his pockets, rocking up on his toes. The innocent look was almost as practiced as Tommy’s old mask had been. I narrowed my eyes.

  “I was looking for Tommy,” he said. Then he shrugged. “I just assumed he’d be with you.”r />
  I raised an eyebrow. “He doesn’t live with me.” Yet.

  The idiot was certainly pushing the boundaries between occasionally staying over and suddenly just being there all the fucking time. But then, I sort of needed him to keep me sane these days. None of which was any of the long-lost brother’s business.

  Cal studied my face for a moment, then let go of some of his act, his face relaxing a bit, the more serious face that I thought was the real one coming through. “We put ourselves up at a hotel. I thought Tommy might appreciate the space.” He shrugged. “I know he’s usually up at night. But when I went to see him at the house, he wasn’t there.”

  I sighed. Suzie. “Are you…worried about him?” It seemed wrong that Cal would be so protective of his little brother after abandoning him for five stinking years. Did he have another reason to worry?

  He raised a blond brow and gave me a familiar sarcastic look. “We did come back to find our one human family member turned into an undead monster. That’s not enough reason to be concerned about him?”

  I shrugged one shoulder. “What else you got?” Cause that was bullshit.

  He sighed. “Look, you seem to take all this weird shit in stride. But it’s not exactly normal, even in the magic culture. It sounds like you might have pissed off the hunters. That means they will be hunting you. And…well, we might be able to somehow keep Tommy alive with magic, but I seriously doubt it. And the results would be…awful. He needs you alive. Which means if we want to keep him alive, we’d better be keeping an eye on your lovely ass too.”

  I digested that. “Fuck you.”

  He stared at me for a moment. “That’s all you have to say about the whole situation?” He snorted. “Wait…that’s your answer to everything, isn’t it?”

  I smiled, showing fang. I wasn’t sure if he could see me that well, but I was hoping so. “See, I knew you were the smart one in the bunch.”

  He shook his head. “You aren’t concerned at all? I mean, there are hunters out there, probably plotting your demise, and my brother’s along with it.”