Spirit Storm (14 page)

“I repeatedly smelled a hint of lavender and honey when I looked at the ink caps and the ink seemed to be swirling around inside like it was alive,” I said.
Or dead.

“Knowing all of our secrets do you wish to continue?” Phil said. “I want to do what I can to save our alpha, but I won’t force you.”

I sat back with a sigh. “Go ahead, but I’m doing this for Cal, not for you,” I said. I stared up at the ceiling as the tattoo gun began to buzz. Now that I knew the truth I felt grateful that Cal’s ancestors were helping us. It was still a bit creepy to have someone’s spirit, even just a tiny piece of it, slipped under your skin, but knowing that it was a voluntary thing from benevolent spirits made it something I could accept. I focused on the smell of lavender and honey that drifted faintly past.
Thank you.

Chapter 18

I had only seen tattoos on other people and in magazines, until today. I turned my ankle side to side looking at the pink inflamed skin. The line work looked raised, like a Braille declaration of love on flesh, but the shading looked a bit dull and my skin was weeping. Perhaps those were the tears of Cal’s ancestors crying for his soul.
Don’t even go there.

Phil was fluttering around the room collecting all of his gear. He avoided eye contact, but his gaze would occasionally dart to mine as though involuntarily drawn to me. Phil may have given me the spirit-ink tattoo that I asked for, but he wasn’t on my list of favorite people. When he finally packed up and left, I let out a sigh of relief.

“You feeling okay?” Emma asked.

“Better by the second,” I said.

“Well enough to help me in the kitchen?” she asked. Emma was pulling an apron over her head and tied her hair up into a knot.

“Sure, so long as you don’t mind me in my stocking feet,” I said. “There’s no way I’m lacing up that boot right now.”

“I guess I can let you off the hook with kitchen dress code…this time,” Emma said. She started giggling and it was contagious.

“So what are we making?” I asked.

“Stew,” she said. Emma tossed carrots, onions and potatoes onto the counter beside the sink. “Wash those while I do the gross stuff.”

Gross stuff?
I watched, curious, as Emma lifted a heavy pan onto one of the stove burners. Nothing gross there. She slipped a pair of surgical gloves out of her pocket, probably one of Phil’s, and snapped them on. Looking embarrassed she opened the fridge and gingerly lifted out a bag of something red. Holding the bag between two fingers she carried it over to the cutting board. Her face was ashen, but she looked determined.

“Is that meat?” I asked.

Emma frowned down at the red substance floating in the bag. “Well it’s not tofu,” she said.

“Who are you and what did you do with Emma?” I asked. I tried to laugh, but was too much in shock.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “You and I aren’t going to eat it, but Cal needs his strength and Simon…needs his strength too.”

Oh. Wow. Emma was doing something nice for Simon? Hell must be enjoying the snow day.

“So what’s the plan?” I asked. I started washing vegetables, but was watching her over my shoulder.

“Grab another pan and we’ll divide the veggies between the two pots,” she said. “I’ll add the meat stuff to the soup pot for the guys.”

I watched her shrug turn into a shudder, but pretended not to notice. Emma grabbed a knife and set it beside the cutting board. I heard her whispering as she bowed her head, saying a prayer for forgiveness, then she upended the bag of meat onto the counter. With a wet slap the meat hit the cutting board, splashing bloody liquid onto Emma’s cheek. She pressed a hand to her stomach and ran outside. I guess I would be the one to cut up the meat.

I was busy slicing the slab of meat into cubes when a ghostly apparition sidled up to my elbow.

“Hey,” Emma said. She was always pale, but now she was nearly transparent. I could see veins, blue at her temple, and wondered how much strength it took to come back inside.

“I got this,” I said, shrugging. “No big.” Actually I was trying not to breathe and was pretending that the blood was ketchup, but I tried to act cool about it. “Can you stir the pot?”

“Sure,” Emma said, looking relieved.

“So, what happened to evil Nathan?” I asked. “I don’t really remember much about last night after Cal got hurt.” That was an understatement, since I had gone nearly catatonic. I could see Emma trying to gauge my mood and decide how much to tell me. “Really Emma, I’m cool. I just want to know what happened.”

Emma stirred the soup pot more than was necessary. “Well, Simon and Cal had done a number on him,” Emma said. “Not that he didn’t deserve it. I checked and made sure he was stable enough to be moved, which he was, and Simon called in the cavalry.”

“The pack?” I asked.

“Oh yeah, a couple of massive guys showed up,” Emma said. “They replaced the rope we had used with real restraints and carried him away. There was a smaller guy with them that seemed to be in charge and Simon said he was the pack shrink.”

“So is there like a pack mental hospital or something?” I asked. I tried to picture a ward of werewolves, but the image wouldn’t stick.

“More like a pack halfway house,” Emma said. “Simon said that the psychiatrist’s job is usually providing basic counseling and group therapy when the pack gathers, but he also has a section of his home converted to hold pack members who have become a danger to themselves or others. The doc and his wife take care of them and he monitors their mental statuses. It’s ultimately up to Cal, as the pack alpha, but Nathan will probably continue to stay there where he can’t hurt anyone again.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” I said. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved that Nathan couldn’t hurt anyone again or because he wasn’t being treated badly. I guess a bit of both.

“Did you hear that?” Emma asked, looking toward the door.

“Maybe Simon’s back?” I said.

Simon was usually stealthy quiet though. Emma reached for the knife and I grabbed a broom holding the handle out in front of me.

“Well isn’t this a fine greeting,” Simon said as he stepped inside.

I felt the fear and tension fade from my shoulders and set the broom back against the wall. Emma turned to the soup pots and started stirring furiously, but not before a blush of red crept across her face.

“You better be hungry,” she said waving a spoon around.

Simon raised one eyebrow, grinned, and slowly licked his lips. “Of course I’m hungry, love,” he said. “I have a legendary appetite.”

The blush on Emma’s face turned scarlet and I rushed to grab a stack of bowls before someone was stabbed with a kitchen knife or bludgeoned with a soup ladle.

“Simon you want your stew with meat, right?” I asked. I held up a chipped bowl questioningly.

“You girls made venison stew?” he asked, his eyes gleaming.

Venison?
I guess that was the meat he had in the fridge.
Great, we just cooked Bambi.
He better enjoy it.

“It was Emma’s idea,” I said, ladling soup into the bowl and trying not to flinch at the brown chunks.

“You guys had a rough night last night,” Emma said, crossing her arms. “You need your strength, so as your doctor I thought we should serve up something more suitable for your wolf palate. Don’t get used to it.”

I dished out a bowl of stew for myself, the veggie kind, and grabbed the basket of bread from the counter. Juggling the basket and bowl I managed to make it to the table without spilling anything, which was amazing considering I was limping around with one boot on. Emma sank into the chair beside me and Simon was ladling out his second bowl of Bambi stew. For the first time today I felt happy. My ankle burned and Cal was still in a coma, but I felt hopeful that he would wake soon.

Simon set his bowl down with a clank of pottery and grabbed a fistful of bread which he proceeded to shove into his mouth with gusto.
Hello, can you say choking hazard?

“Don’t wolf down your food like that,” Emma said. “It’s gross.”

“Like this,” Simon said, with his mouth full. He continued shoving even more food into his mouth.

“Wolf down?” I asked. “I don’t think he has a choice.”

I started giggling and even Emma burst out laughing. Simon managed to laugh while eating and not even choke. It would have been the best meal ever, if only Cal were awake to join us.

Chapter 19

I tried not to cry as we cleared away dinner dishes. Emma had set out a bowl of stew for Cal, just in case, but he never woke up. My hopeful mood evaporated like the rainbow hued soap bubbles disappearing from the sponge in my hand. Once the dishes were washed and drip drying in the dish rack, we began wordlessly pushing furniture out of the way.

Simon and Emma took their places against the far wall, drums in hand. Reaching down to touch Cal’s face I brushed an unruly lock of hair from his forehead and kissed his brow and then his lips.
I’m not giving up on you Calvin Miller.

Walking to the center of the room, I sucked in a deep lavender and honey scented breath and turned to face Emma and Simon. “Time to dance,” I said.

Our dancing and drumming was even more frenzied than before. I could feel Cal’s ancestor spirits pulsing beneath my skin in time to our drumming and the racing beat of my heart. Fueled by desperation we ran ourselves ragged, but Cal didn’t wake up. There was no sign of improvement at all, not even an eye flutter or a finger twitch. Promising to meet here again tomorrow night, same bat time, same bat channel, Emma and I left the cabin exhausted and discouraged.

The sky was already darkening as we buckled up and Emma started the engine. Squeezing my hand she put the car in reverse and turned to leave. The last thing I saw was Simon’s face glowing blood red in the flash of Emma’s tail lights. The look I saw in his eyes was heartbreaking, but the river of tears shining red on his cheeks sent a shiver up my spine. Even Simon was giving up hope.

*****

I picked at the remaining flecks of black nail polish and fidgeted on the edge of the passenger seat. When Emma pulled up to my house I flew out the door with a quick goodbye. I had never been so eager to crawl into bed and fall asleep, but I was hoping for a special dream visitation.
I had a date with a ghost.

Skin tingling I dropped the bag of apples on the hallway table, scrawled a quick note telling my parents to eat up, and ran up the stairs to my room. I closed the door quietly, heart racing, and sank down on the edge of my bed. Unlacing and removing my boots was not fun, my ankle felt swollen and raw, but I changed the dressing on my tattoo and brushed my teeth. Pulling on an old t-shirt of Cal’s I had raided from the cabin, I crept under the cold covers and curled up with one of my dung beetle plushies. I tried to quiet my breathing and concentrate on Cal’s smiling face.
Come to me.

Sleep was slow to come, but after midnight I opened my eyes at last in the field of whispering grass.
Cal.
I scrambled to my feet, relieved to see the flowers at my feet blossoming brightly. When the flowers withered and died I would have to race back to my body and away from this shadow world. I needed to find Cal and there wasn’t much time.

“Cal?” I said.

My voice seemed to drift on the breeze, sending echoes where sound should not reach. This place had its own rules and I was an intruder. It didn’t feel hostile, yet, but I knew better than to stay standing in one place. I started walking forward focusing my thoughts on finding Cal. The direction didn’t seem to matter, since the field looked the same no matter which way I turned.

“Hey,” Cal said.

His voice came from behind me and I spun to face him as he reached out to pull me into a bear hug.
Wolf hug?

“Oh God Yuki, I missed you,” he said, burying his face in my hair.

“Me too,” I said. “More than you know.”

Cal’s lips found mine in a burst of heat that warmed me to my toes. His fingers moved from tenderly caressing my face to slip into my hair, one hand cupping my head as the other ran down my spine to rest at the base of my back. My stomach fluttered and my legs felt weak as his fingers left a trail of electricity down my neck and spine. Our kisses turned hungry and I realized just how afraid I had been that Cal was lost to me forever.
But he’s not. He’s still here.

Cal pulled away first as I stood panting in his arms. His blue eyes sparkled with tears, cheeks already damp, and lips red and swollen. I wanted to reach up and pull those lips to my own, but instead I looked more closely at where we touched.

“You’re getting better,” I said, wonderingly.

Cal looked solid again. He may still be in this place, but he was no longer fading away. The spirit-ink tattoo and my dancing had helped. Nodding yes, Cal slowly turned me to face someone I hadn’t seen for too long. His wolf spirit stood a hundred yards away staring steadily at Cal and me. Cal’s wolf may not have been at his side, but he was no longer running from him and trying to leap into the light. This was indeed progress and a little sob slipped out before I could stifle it.

“Keep dancing for me Yuki,” Cal said, lips brushing me ear. “Dance for me and I will be home soon. I promise.”

Chapter 20

October 26
^th

I woke that morning with tears on my cheeks, but they were tears of joy, not of heartache. Cal was coming back to me. He promised and Cal never makes a promise he can’t keep. I jumped out of bed excited and happy as I danced around the room getting ready for school. Nothing could ruin my mood today.
Not even high school.

I was humming as I added a fringe of safety pins to the bottom of my tank dress. I added a huge silver cross and an artfully ripped cardigan with calavera, stylized Day of the Dead skulls, for buttons. I removed the last of my black nail polish and replaced it with candy apple red. Blowing my nails dry with the hair dryer helped to set the polish and I grabbed my backpack and made it down to the front door just as Emma honked her horn.
Today is a good day.

I nearly skipped my way to Emma’s car, which didn’t escape her notice. She raised an eyebrow questioningly as I hopped into the passenger seat.