Defying Destiny (25 page)

found at least some comfort held gently

against his chest. At least she didn’t feel

as if she would drift away on the current

of her tears. When she had quieted to

shaky sniffles, he released her, handing

her a handkerchief so she could dab at her

swollen eyes and blow her nose. He

reclaimed his handkerchief and tucked it

in his pocket, as if unconcerned by its

apparent dampness.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“A little.”

“Do you think you might like to eat

something?”

“No, I’m too tired to eat.”

He smiled. “Well, that’s something.

I’ll keep you here at the clinic tonight for

observation, and tomorrow, if you eat a

good breakfast, I’ll release you.”

She nodded in obedient agreement.

“Sleep well.” He lifted a lantern from

the stand beside the bed. “If you need

anything before morning, just give a shout.

I’ll be sleeping in the next room.”

She nodded again, but thought she

would never have the need of something

so badly she would call for assistance

from a perfect stranger in the middle of the

night. Of course, she hadn’t thought she

would ever faint either.

The dream went on and on: a

ceaseless torment. Punishment for all the

blood she’d spilt over the years. The

dream played through from beginning to

end as before, but it continued now and

she couldn’t wake up.

Nash had succumbed to her sword.

He lay at her feet, the blank stare of

death on his face. Carsha confronted

Maralee, who stood over his body in

utter shock.

“You killed Uncle Nash,” she

accused. “First my father and now Uncle

Nash! I hate you!”

Maralee was confused. She needed to

deny it. She needed to plead her

innocence. “Your father? I didn’t kill

your father. I’ve never killed a man. I

only kill monsters.”

The woman who had once cleaned

Nash’s wounds and ignited Maralee’s

jealousy was holding Carsha’s hand

now. Rella. She spoke as if she were

talking about the weather. “A monster to

you. A brother to Nash. A father to my

children. A husband, a lover, a friend to

me.”

“No,” Maralee denied. “I only kill

wolves. I only kill…I kill…people…”

She screamed so loudly it woke her

up. Her entire body was drenched in cold

sweat. She was trembling so hard her

muscles ached. Dr. Sabin was suddenly

beside her bed. He hadn’t even bothered

with the candle. He found her in the

shadows of the dawn and gripped her by

both arms.

“Miss Decatur, what is it?”

“I—nothing,” she gasped. “It was

nothing.”

“You screamed,” he said. “You were

terrified. I heard you scream.”

“No, just a dream. A dream, that’s

all.” It was still haunting her even now

that she was awake.

“Do you often have nightmares?” he

asked. He sat down on the edge of her

bed, checking her for fever with his

fingers.

“Yes. Every night. I’m used to it by

now.”

“No wonder you don’t want to go to

sleep.” He looked at her with compassion

in his blue eyes. “I can give you a

concoction that will allow you to sleep

more peacefully.”

“Truly?” It was bad enough dreaming

about the massacre of her family every

night, but now she was dreaming of being

a murderer—a murderer of people, not

monsters.

“Would you like to try it? You will

probably sleep twelve hours.”

She gazed across the room out the

window at the pinks and oranges

spreading across the sky. “It’s morning.

You said you’d release me if I ate a good

breakfast.”

He sighed, looking worried. “I did say

that. Where are you staying?”

“At Smithy’s Inn.”

“I could stop by this evening and give

you the concoction. You would sleep very

soundly tonight.”

She smiled, fighting an urge to hug

him. “I could sleep without dreaming?”

He nodded, smiling in return.

“That would be wonderful.”

She could see the caring in his eyes,

his urge to help others, his need to do

everything he could for even strangers.

“Very good,” he said. “Now to find

you some breakfast. I guarantee you will

not enjoy my cooking, so why don’t we go

over to the inn. I could go for some of

Phyllis’s fantastic griddlecakes.”

“That’s a deal,” Maralee said. She

wondered if the innkeeper and his wife

knew she had spent the night at the clinic.

She wouldn’t be surprised if Gordon had

a posse of armed men standing out in the

street waiting to come to her rescue. Like

he had when she’d first stayed with Nash.

Nash.
If she’d heeded Gordon’s warning

that day, she might have forgone the agony

of losing Nash, though she wouldn’t have

traded those two weeks of blissful

ignorance in his arms for anything.

“It’s a date,” Dr. Sabin said.

Maralee raised her brows at him in

question.

“Not a real date, Miss Decatur.” He

chuckled and shifted his eyes to one side.

“I’m your doctor. I can’t go around falling

for every beautiful, young lady in my care.

I’d never have time to shave.”

He scratched his jaw, covered with a

night’s

growth

of

beard.

Maralee

chuckled, the lump of lead in her chest

lightened marginally.

He smiled at her and turned to leave

the room. “You’ll find your clothes in the

wardrobe.”

He left her alone, closing the door to

respect her privacy, though he must have

seen her naked already. She climbed from

the bed, noticing her weakness for the first

time. The moon would be full in ten days.

How would she fight Wolves if she

couldn’t stand? How could she kill them if

she dreamt they were people?

Damn Nash! He’d been the one who

had

given

her

this

feeling

of

incompetence. She had never questioned

her duty in the past. And now, she couldn’t

even decide upon her destiny. Her duty

had been clear before, but now it was a

hazy cloud of doubt, lined with regret.

Had her entire purpose in life been one

huge mistake? Was saving the lives of

strangers worth damning her soul to this

internal Hell?

What had been Nash’s purpose in

taking her to his village, in showing her

what it meant to be loved, and then

revealing to her he was the one thing she

hated more than anything in the world?

Why hadn’t he just killed her? She was the

last of the Hunters. With her out of the

picture, the Wolves he protected would be

free to devour entire villages at their

leisure. Nothing made sense and the only

one who might have the answers was

someone she never wanted to see again.

Except, she still saw Nash. Every few

minutes his image clouded her thoughts.

He haunted her dreams. He appeared in

her heart without any provocation. How

could she still love him now that she knew

what he really was?

“I do love him,” she whispered aloud,

“but I hate him more.”

A gentle knock at her door pulled her

abruptly back to the real world. She found

herself standing in front of the wardrobe

completely naked with no idea as to how

she’d ended up there.

“Are you ready, Miss Decatur?” Dr.

Sabin’s soft voice carried through the

door.

“Nearly.” She reached for her clothes

and dressed quickly. Several minutes

later, she opened the door, breathless from

her haste to become presentable.

Dr. Sabin smiled at her. He was clean-

shaven, had combed his hair and had

changed out of his rumpled clothes. He

took her wrist and placed something in the

palm of her hand. “Thomas said these

were yours,” he said. “I’ve been carrying

them around in my pocket.”

Maralee didn’t have to glance down to

know the warm metal in her hand was a

pair of dragonfly barrettes. She tucked

them into a pocket in her cloak, not even

thanking the doctor for returning them to

her.

“Let’s go. I’m famished,” she said.

He chuckled at her enthusiasm and

took her hand, placing it on his forearm as

he led her through the deserted clinic to

the outside.

The sky was a dull gray. Heavy clouds

blocked the warmth of the sun from

Maralee’s face as she looked up to gauge

the day’s weather. Dr. Sabin locked the

door to the clinic—a small, but well-kept

brick building in the center of town. The

dark blue door matched the awnings and

trim. A small sign beside the door read,

Dr. Jared Sabin, Medical Doctor. His

fingers covered her hand, which was

resting lightly on his sleeve and they

headed towards the inn.

“I guess being from the North you

would be used to the cold,” he said as he

turned up his collar against the chilly

breeze.

“I haven’t been home for many years.

Are you originally from Sarbough?”

“Actually I come from Rangling near

the Southern Sea. I’ve only been here a

few months. I just recently opened my

clinic.”

“Do they have Wolves in Rangling?”

she asked him, an old habit of hers. She

was always trying to decide where to go

next.

“Wolves?” He glanced at her,

perplexed.

“Large Wolves,” she clarified. “They

would stand about this tall at the

shoulders.” She held a hand waist high.

“Weigh around a hundred and fifty to two

hundred pounds. Seem to turn up only

when the moon is full.”

“Is that what you dream about? These

Wolves?”

“Mostly.”

“And you’ve seen them?”

“I kill them.” She expected him to be

shocked. Most people were, when she

told them she hunted enormous beasts for

a living.

“Are they somehow undeserving of

life?”

She paused, considering his question.

“Undeserving?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You don’t have

to answer that. I’ve never really

understood the point in killing. I saw too

much of it at the hospital in Rangling. It’s

a large city. Several territorial gangs have

formed. Nevertheless, I’d mend those

young men and send them back into the

world, only to see them again—sometimes

in surgery, but more often at autopsy. One

insulted another’s family. One became

involved with another’s sister. One stole

another’s property. One expressed a

different opinion. Always they had a

reason for fighting, for killing, but I never

understood the point. How does ending

another’s life bring peace? How can it

bring anything but sorrow?”

Maralee internalized his words but did

not comment on his logic. Apparently, he

hadn’t had his entire family slaughtered by

Wolves. He’d never known the absolute

rage or experienced the ceaseless need to

prevent the same tragedy from happening

again.

“It’s snowing,” he said.

She looked up at the sky and blinked,

as large flakes clung to her lashes. “Yes,”

she said. “Dr. Sabin?”

“Please, call me Jared,” he urged,

squeezing her hand.

“Jared, you never answered my

question.”

“Your question?”

“Are there Wolves in Rangling?”

“My

dear,

there

are

wolves

everywhere. Most of them are disguised

as human beings.”

Her eyes opened wide as she stared up

at him in disbelief. “How did you know?”

Were there others like Nash? Others who

were half-human, half-monster?

He gave her a puzzled look. “I was

speaking figuratively. Philosophizing. It’s

a bad habit I picked up at university.”