Chapter Thirty

Terrick

“You’re still alive, kiddo,” Dad said as we both stared up at the full moon hanging above our heads. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’m at the top of a roller coaster and I don’t want the ride to end,” I shrugged.

“That’s how you should feel at your age,” he chuckled. “Four kids on the way! Sheesh! You’ll need to grow extra arms soon. Too bad evolution didn’t go that way. But how do you really feel?”

“No different than before the moon came out,” I said and meant it.

Not too far away from us stood a giant man and a bull. Only they were spirits too. The man rested his head against the ghost bull’s nose and whispered about Baby Duchess. She was his first and only grandchild so far. Soon, Desi would go on to whatever came next for him just like my dad.

“The bull too,” my hound chimed into my thoughts.

Yep. The bull too. If anyone deserved a rest it was a poor rodeo bull. That would be a hard job.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked Dad.

“No and I never will be. I want to see who Salta grows up to be and to meet your kids. I want to take your mother on a vacation all across Europe. Those things were never meant to be and I’m too tired to keep going. My whole life I was on the go – living it and loving it. I always said I’d rest when I was dead and that was a lie too. So, think about that. Don’t work too hard but live hard every day. Just remember to rest too. Get lots of rest before the babies come.”

“I plan on it,” I nodded, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye.

There was a door not far from us. It wasn’t a normal door of life and death. I’d seen those before. This one glowed and hummed a little song that almost sounded like a lullaby. That was a different sort of door. All three of them were headed off to rest before their next lives.

“Hey, one more thing. Don’t name a baby after me. I know that sounds so ungrateful, but give the kids their own names, okay? Don’t stick them with carrying around the name of a man who passed in childbirth. Don’t make them think of that every time they think of where their name came from. Name them after something happy or beautiful. Make up names that mean nothing. Just don’t stick your children with the weight of the past. That isn’t theirs to carry. It should’ve never been yours to carry.”

“I have the sight,” I shrugged.

“I mean it. Don’t do that to my grandkids,” Dad said.

“I won’t, Dad.”

“I know,” he frowned at the moon. “And don’t let your mother spin too far off her axis either if you can help it. Call Jert, if she does. I know you don’t like him, but he’s a good guy.”

“I know that. He’s just not you.”

“Well, then he wouldn’t be Jert, would he?” Dad laughed, turning to face me.

“No but ---” There was nothing I could say.

Jert couldn’t fill his shoes. No one could. I’d done my best for Salta but I wasn’t him either. The past was set in stone. He was dead. He’d been dead for a long time. This wasn’t his death. This was just what came next. This was the natural progression of things.

“We’ll see each other again,” Dad said. “We’re fruit from the same tree. You’ve done well with Salta. You’ve done well for yourself. There’s so much I could say and so much you probably want to hear, but haven’t we said it all over the years now? You know what you’re doing. You’re good at finding your way, Ter. You make a way where none was before and apparently have some big names on your side too. You got this. No more driving while enraged, but you got this thing called life. This is your second chance. Don’t blow it kid and don’t waste it wishing life were different. My life is over, but with those kids on the way yours is just starting. I love you. I love Salta and your mom. I even love those kids that I hope to meet before they’re born. I love you and you got this.”

He hugged me and for the first time since he died, I felt his touch. That touch that made it all final. This was goodbye. This was the final goodbye. The door glowed brighter as he let go of me and it was only then I saw Syre. He and Desi stood close, leaning against the cow spirit whispering. They never knew each other while both were living. I wasn’t the only one saying goodbye too early to their dad tonight.

Dad nodded at Desi, and they met in the middle of the backyard a meter from the door with the cow standing on the other side of Desi. Syre sprinted across the yard as if to stop them, but he raced all the way to me and took my hand. The others were below our feet sleeping away the last of the night. Syre had just become a father in the flesh, and I was about to become one myself in a few months.

“Don’t start wondering on the whys. They’ll get you nowhere,” Syre whispered, having picked up my thoughts over the group link. “I just about drove myself into the ground with those questions. “Just be in the moment. There’ll be time for all of those questions later.”

I nodded. Dad, Desi, and the bull walked toward the door and it expanded to fit them shoulder-to-shoulder. One hot tear ran down my cheek. He wasn’t alone, but for a long moment I felt as if I was the only one left on Earthside. Even Syre’s warm hand in mine felt hollow.

Then came the hound. He nudged my ribs with his long, toothy muzzle and I let him take control. Maybe he’d track down Dad’s soul for me in the Other World and find a way to bring him back. Maybe he could bring Desi and his bull friend back too. Only he couldn’t. His magic didn’t stretch that far. He was a hound and he was a bit of me. He was just as bound by the laws of the spell Frost used to cement us together as I was.

He didn’t race away. He didn’t try to dart through the fading door. He dropped to his haunches and threw back his massive head until the moon came into sight. Then he howled. He howled like he himself had died and the sound echoed through me – warm and alive. He howled as if he could scatter our grief in all four directions to make it lighter to carry.

Syre’s coyote joined in the mournful tune and soon voices scattered across the village came to life. I wondered how many of them knew what was going on and how many just joined, because a wolf pack never lets you mourn alone. The basement hatch opened and Duke was the first out, with Baby Duchess in one arm he headed straight to his mate.

Then came Scott in his wolf fur. The moon played on his fur giving him a blue tint as he climbed out the hatch. I closed the gap between us, and he leaned against our side. Together Heartville howled the loss of men it never knew, but for one second, or the first time since my mother banished me, I felt at home. Maybe home wasn’t where you were the happiest, but where the folks around you supported your grief, even if they couldn’t understand it.

“I got you,” Scott said. “You’re here and I got you.”

“I love you, mate,” I said over the mating link.

“I love you too.”

We stretched out in the grass as the others howled on. I always thought I’d feel empty when Dad left for good, but I didn’t. Scott was there with me, and I felt warm and sad. Excitement tingled in all my tails thinking about what life might bring next. Dad was gone, but soon our family would grow, and our babies would be the first babies of the Lost Fang Coven to be born outside of the coven’s territory.

“You won’t be sad forever,” Scott whispered over our mating link. “The sad will linger but you’ll have other things too. You’re still here. We did it. We did it! We’re still together!”