Chapter 6

Chapter Six

I leaned on a tree outside of Charlie’s school, my arms crossed, as I rehearsed what I’d say to him. It was a conversation I’d been replaying in my head for so long, and yet the words still felt like chewing on charcoal. Would he hate me? Worse, would he be scared? He was so little and had already lost so much. It didn’t help that I was disappearing on a regular basis.

I’d thought this time would be easier. This place was his home now, more so than it would ever be mine. He was growing up with a pack that he would probably live with for the rest of his life. He hadn’t just embraced them. They’d embraced him back. He’d be okay, even if I died tomorrow. They loved him as much as he loved them. If I’d done nothing else right, I’d brought him here.

But in spite of everything, it still felt like hell to leave him. Like if I didn’t have this tree holding me up, I’d crumple to my knees.

The door to the school swung open and the yard erupted in yells as the kids ran out like little gremlins being let loose after being confined for so long. My little monster spotted me and came running over. “Can I sleep over at Max’s tonight?”

Max was one of Charlie’s best friends and currently hanging upside down from a branch not far away.

“But you slept over at Phil’s two nights ago?”

“Yeah, but this is Max, and there’s no school tomorrow.” He was staring at me as if he couldn’t fathom how I didn’t see the stark difference in the situation.

“I wanted to talk to you first.” I took a seat on the nearest bench, waving him over with me.

“What’s wrong?” His brow was already knitting, turning my stomach into knots as it did.

“I’m going to have to go on another trip. I’ll be gone for a little while. Where I have to go is pretty far.”

His nose crinkled. “Who’s going to parent me?”

“I’m going to ask Buddie or Rastin to stay at the cabin with you while I’m gone. Maybe both, or maybe they’ll take turns.”

His face smoothed out as he gave it a minute of thought. He nodded, shrugging his little shoulders. “Okay.”

“Okay? You’re good with that?” I had all sorts of comforting lines at the ready, and then bribes of goodies when I got back—if I got back. Yet he seemed to already be bouncing back?

“Yeah,” he said, and then patted my hand. “You’ll come home. You always come back for me. I’m not worried. Can I go to Max’s now?” He glanced over to where his friend had dropped out of the tree and was heading our way.

My insides were a frayed, ripped-apart mess, but apparently he was going to roll with this just fine. It helped to know he’d be okay, but not enough to fix me. My insides felt like they’d been run through the garbage disposal, but I’d do whatever would make him happy.

“As long as he asked his mother,” I said, trying to keep control of my emotions. He was okay. Breaking out into a mess of tears would only upset him. I’d let him go to his friend’s and then go hide and cry.

“He did.” Charlie was already running off toward Max.

“Okay, then.”

I’d blocked out the rest of the day for consoling Charlie, but he was fine. I was the mess. I was the one who needed to be coddled. It looked as if I were the one who needed a distraction.

The sound of a bike roaring drew my attention. A distraction had just presented itself. I wound my way farther down the hill to the main garages, situated near the top of the road and close to the entrance of pack territory.

There, standing beside Edgar the mechanic, was Kicks. He was turning the handle on a motorcycle, revving the engine.

“Did you hear that, Edgar?” he asked as he stopped.

“Yeah. Sounds like it’s running rough.” Edgar was the only mechanic we had and was worth fifty of his kind. There wasn’t a thing he didn’t seem capable of fixing. It might’ve been because he liked machines so much better than people. “Not a problem. I’ll take it for a spin and test it out.”

This was the most I’d heard Edgar speak since I’d been here. I wasn’t sure he even spoke to his mate this much.

“We’ll get it fixed up.” Edgar nodded at me and then rode off on the bike.

Kicks turned to me, his gaze sharp. “You told Charlie.”

I looked over to the trees, hating how he could read the hurt on me like I was standing there with a knife protruding from my chest.

“Yeah. I’m good. He took it well.” As soon as I said it, I could hear the defensiveness in my voice. Not like I’d been fooling him anyway.

He nodded, not arguing with me.

“I actually came to find you for a reason. If we have to travel, I want to be able to ride my own bike.” If it was just going to be me and him, the more space in between us, the better.

Kicks’ stare deepened as he hesitated for a moment. “I’m not disagreeing that it would be good if you knew how to ride, but there’s a strong chance we’re going to be doing long days. It’ll be a hard ride.”

Hard ride. Those were the words that made my brain glitch, exactly what I was trying to avoid.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, trying to inject as much confidence into my voice as possible, even if I had to fake it.

Kicks gave me a long, searching look before nodding. “Okay. If you want to try it.” He walked to another bike, all of them with keys in the ignition, and rolled it over to me. “Get on.”

I walked over and took a seat. He pushed up the kickstand, and the bike was way heavier than I’d thought it would be.

“You’ve ridden a regular bike before, right?” Kicks asked.

“Yes.”

He gave me a run-through of all the instruments—how to accelerate, brake, shift—and then stepped back. “Don’t go too fast. Take it slow until you get the feel for it.”

I nodded and took a deep breath.

As soon as I turned the handle, the bike surged forward way faster than I’d expected. My heart went up into my throat, and my hands tightened on the grips. I lost control almost immediately and then tried to jerk the handlebars to the side to stop from hitting a tree. The bike went flying forward on its side one way, and I followed.

The pain was immediate, the worst radiating from my ankle. The only good thing was that I couldn’t breathe deep enough to scream like a banshee.

Kicks was suddenly there, kneeling beside me. “Dammit,” he said, taking me in. “You okay?”

I nodded, the pain making it hard to speak.

“How bad?” His voice was strained, almost like he was the one who’d just gotten banged up.

Buddie was right beside him. “What the hell happened?”

“I’m okay,” I said, trying to keep the situation under control.

“She wanted to try the bike and lost control,” Kicks said.

A crowd was forming around us, more people asking. I was barely looking at anyone. I was too busy trying not to cry in front of a crowd.

“She’s all right,” Kicks said. “Let’s give her some space.” He gently touched my leg.

“Ow. Don’t touch it.” I put a hand out. “I’m okay. I just need a minute.”

Buddie was hustling the crowd away from me as Kicks knelt beside me, as if waiting for me to do something. I didn’t want to budge, but I also hated being the pack’s center of attention. It was time to get up. I gritted my teeth, trying to get to my feet. Kicks had his hand under my elbow.

Black spots started to cloud my vision.

I came to in Kicks’ arms, being carried toward the cabin, every movement shooting pain through me.

“I had it. I just needed a moment,” I said, trying to ignore all the curious stares.

“It’s broken, so if a moment translates to a month, yeah, I completely agree,” Kicks said.

When we reached the cabin, he set me down gently on the couch, cautious with my leg.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said, and then turned to leave. He didn’t go far before he looked back at me with a firm stare. “Don’t. Move.”

“Where do you think I’m going to go? I. Can’t. Stand.” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

“That doesn’t mean you won’t try to crawl somewhere,” he shot back, hesitating as if he were debating whether to sic one of his people on me.

“I’m not leaving. Go get supplies or people or whatever. I’ll be here when you get back.”

I flopped my head back onto the couch pillow and immediately regretted it. Any sudden movement jarred my leg, sending fresh waves of pain.

How could I be so capable of killing and yet so utterly useless at something as simple as riding a bike? Death had made me into a magical savant, but with all my talents residing on the dark side. I couldn’t even heal myself. I was utterly useless for any kind of good.

The second Kicks was out the door, I said, “Death?”

I didn’t want to call her, usually avoided it at all costs, but unfortunately, I was in a real pickle now. Not only would I not be able to ride my own bike, I might be traveling with crutches. Through the wilderness. I was supposed to be scary like this?

“Death?” I called again. I waited a whole five seconds before repeating, “Death!” I used my parent voice this time, not that I expected it to work. It didn’t work on Charlie most of the time. Why would it work on Death?

No one appeared. She always popped up when I didn’t want her and yet never seemed to hear me when I called. So typical. It was like I was frenemies with the most lethal creature on earth. I took in a long, deep breath before I screamed her name again, along with a string of curses for a little extra flavor. I longed to tell her to go to hell, but she was probably already there on vacation.

“Death!” I added as much force to my voice as I could. My voice echoed off the log walls, and I wondered how many people might hear me. If they did, hopefully they’d just think I was rambling on like a lunatic, and not suspect the truth.

Of all the people—things—I had to work with, I got her? A spiteful bitch who was in charge of collecting souls?

My leg throbbed in pain, as if she were here and poking at it. She probably was, the sadistic bitch.

She suddenly appeared, showing up in that unsettling way of hers. Her expression was a mask of indifference, but it was better than when she tried to approximate human emotions.

Did you want to speak to me? she asked, using a strange tone, like she’d been watching the Stepford Wives movie and practicing for just this moment.

“I need you to fix this.” I pointed to my leg, the pain intensifying as if to emphasize my issues. The sharp, relentless ache was almost unbearable and doing nothing for my patience with her games—and boy did she like her games. She was worse than a ten-year-old in an arcade with an unlimited budget.

Why would I do this? She stared at my leg, dumbfounded.

“Why?” Was I really going to have to drag this out? She knew why. Anyone with common sense would know why. “Because you want me to be your vengeance on earth. That’s why. You think people will take me seriously if I’m limping along? Who am I scaring this way?”

I’ll fix it when you need it, she said, her voice completely flat.

“You won’t fix it now?” It was an idiotic question, since clearly she wasn’t going to. Shock forced me to ask anyway.

No. I think you’re getting too reliant on my digging you out of your issues. I’ve decided that you need to learn to be more self-reliant. Her chin went up. Thankfully, it was only a small movement she was trying out.

Dig me out? This had nothing to do with digging anyone out of anything. She’d saved Kicks, but not because she wanted to help. She’d extracted a price I was going to be paying for possibly decades.

I tried to sit up straighter. “You’re being spiteful because I’m not groveling? Is that what this is about? You want me to be happy to go to Scotland and upend my life? Kill all your targets with a smile on my face?”

You’re so off the mark it’s stunning. This isn’t about groveling. I want Kicks to go, and you don’t want him to. Now he has to, no matter what you want.

“He was already coming,” I said, almost yelling.

Yes, in spite of you.

“So that’s what this is? You won’t fix me because you’re in a snit over my trying to leave him behind?” My leg began to throb in time with my pounding heart. I wasn’t sure why I’d even called her. I should’ve known she’d do this.

She shrugged, giving me a fuck-you look while she did it. The gesture was beyond creepy.

“And while we’re at it, you have to stop doing…that.” I waved a hand at her. “You’re not doing it right.” Instead of stopping, she did it again another ten or twenty times, so rapidly that I got nauseated watching her. It was almost like watching a strobe light.

Am I doing it right now? she said, shrugging again at normal speed.

“No.” She wasn’t, but even if she had been, I might not have admitted it. I was more likely to punch her than give her props. “Now, are you going to fix me or not?”

Maybe if you give me what I want. She stared down her nose at me, which made not being able to stand even more infuriating.

“Which is what, exactly?” He was already coming to Scotland, so what she wanted now wasn’t all that clear.

I want you to fuck him so I can feel what it’s like, and you keep ruining it. You ruin everything. You don’t want to have any fun.

Any second I expected her to try to stick her tongue out. Who knew how grotesque that would be?

“Can’t you go insert yourself into someone else’s body and get your rocks off another way?” I said, my patience wearing thin, the throbbing in my leg depleting what little was left.

If I had options, do you think I’d have chosen a prude? She stepped closer. And even if I could, I want him . The possessiveness in her voice sent a chill through me.

I nailed her with a stare. “I might’ve made a bargain with you, but he was never part of the deal. You don’t get to touch him, not even through me.”

Death’s smile widened, but it didn’t reach her eyes. We’ll see about that.

Kicks walked into the cabin a few minutes later, and I was glad that Death was gone. I couldn’t stop her from being near him, but it put me on edge anytime she was. The way she looked at him made me want to do utterly insane things, like try to kill Death herself.

He carried a box of medical supplies, his expression one of determined focus as he put them down on the table beside me.

“I’ve got cast supplies, unless…” he began, trailing off as he took in the sight of me with my foot propped up awkwardly on a pile of pillows.

Yeah, he’d had the same idea I had, and neither of us had been right.

“It’s still broken, and I’m pretty sure it’s going to stay that way.” Actually, I was positive it would stay this way.

“She won’t heal you because she wants me to come,” he said, a knowing look in his eyes.

“Who knows why she does what she does?” I said. The last thing I would do was reinforce that someone agreed with him.

He smirked, and I shot him a glare.

“It’s not funny.”

“Of course not,” he said, making a mockery of a straight face.

“So what do we do? I think I’m going to have to at least wrap it.”

“I’ve got Doc McGuere coming. He’s got more experience setting bones than anyone else here.”

“The vet?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Shifters don’t break bones easily, and if we do, shifting heals them,” he explained. He knelt on the couch near me, a pair of scissors in hand. “We’re going to have to cut the jeans. Easiest way to do it.”

I nodded, watching as he carefully took the scissors and started cutting up the fabric. He worked quickly, his hands steady, revealing the swelling skin that was already becoming discolored.

“What if it’s just a sprain?” I asked.

“That’s not a sprain,” he said. Just as he finished, there was a knock on the door. Kicks called out, “Come in!”

The door creaked open, and in stepped Doc McGuere, a grizzled man with sharp eyes and a demeanor that spoke of years of dealing with both animals and shifters. He carried a worn leather bag, its contents clinking softly as he set it down beside the couch.

“Let’s take a look at this leg,” he said, his voice a gravelly rumble. He knelt beside Kicks, inspecting the injury with practiced efficiency. “Yep. It’s a break.”

“Are you sure? We don’t even have an X-ray,” I said.

Kicks looked at me. “It’s a break.”

Doc nodded, pulling out a series of bandages from his bag and handing a bowl to Kicks. “Mix that up, will you?”

The vet worked quickly, his hands moving with the confidence of someone who had done this countless times before, just probably not on people.

“There you go,” he said about ten minutes later. “Keep it elevated and stay off it as much as you can for at least the first few weeks.”

“Thank you,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.