And Blue Skies From Pain (10 page)
Read And Blue Skies From Pain Online
Authors: Stina Leicht
The stream flowed over a steep waterfall and gathered in a deep black pool at the bottom. He craned his neck to see over the spilling water. The doe lay below at the edge of the pool, struggling to get to her feet. The rich scent of blood sent him charging around the dead tree and down the steep slope. He noticed the abrupt drop-off just before he plunged over it. The mad scramble to save himself sent dead leaves and dirt sliding off into nothingness. He waited until he was sure he had good purchase and backed himself away from danger. Gasping, his heart hammered in his ears. Then the doe’s bleats of pain and another, closer horn blast spurred him to his feet. He searched and found a second way down the slope. Upon finally reaching the bottom, he looked for her, and his heart stopped.
The doe was gone. Mary Kate sat at the riverbank, clutching her wounded ankle. Her light brown hair, once beautiful, was now dirty and tangled with twigs and leaves. Her slim legs and graceful feet were bare, scratched and bleeding and caked with mud. The hem of her white dress was in shreds. Her skin was so pallid it was almost blue with the chill. She was shivering as she let out a sob. Lifting her head, she pushed filthy hair from her face. Guilt tangled with love and missing memories as Liam remembered it all: the blood, the last ride to hospital, the waiting room, the awful feel of her final breath against his cheek.
Mary Kate.
Jesus Christ, it’s really you.
His shock came out in a series of barks and yelps.
You’re alive!
He didn’t know how it could be, and he didn’t care. He hopped with joy. He trembled with the need to gather her in his arms and kiss the pain away. A twisted ankle was nothing. He could deal with that—they could handle anything together. Mary Kate was the strong one. Always was. And she was back. He’d never leave her alone again. She’d be safe. He’d see to it. He’d protect her with his life’s blood.
His shock came out in a series of barks and yelps.
You’re alive!
He didn’t know how it could be, and he didn’t care. He hopped with joy. He trembled with the need to gather her in his arms and kiss the pain away. A twisted ankle was nothing. He could deal with that—they could handle anything together. Mary Kate was the strong one. Always was. And she was back. He’d never leave her alone again. She’d be safe. He’d see to it. He’d protect her with his life’s blood.
Understanding he meant to go to her, she let out a short scream. There was no sign of recognition in her face, only terror. She scooted back, away from him.
He froze.
Please, Mary Kate,
he thought to her.
It’s only me. I’m here to help.
Please, Mary Kate,
he thought to her.
It’s only me. I’m here to help.
She held up a hand as if to shoo him away.
I’m the fucking Hound.
Shame extinguished his elation.
She knew about the monster but never saw it. Not like this. Why would she know me as I am now? And here I’ve frightened her.
He made a conscious effort to return to mortal form but couldn’t. There wasn’t even the slightest tingle along his skin to indicate he’d made the attempt. It made sense. The change was more difficult to control when he was under stress, and he’d just had the shock of his life.
She’s alive!
He barked, happy, and once again forgetting himself.
Shame extinguished his elation.
She knew about the monster but never saw it. Not like this. Why would she know me as I am now? And here I’ve frightened her.
He made a conscious effort to return to mortal form but couldn’t. There wasn’t even the slightest tingle along his skin to indicate he’d made the attempt. It made sense. The change was more difficult to control when he was under stress, and he’d just had the shock of his life.
She’s alive!
He barked, happy, and once again forgetting himself.
Mary Kate dragged herself closer to the water.
Wait. I’ll not hurt you.
Again, he thought at her, wishing with all his might for a human voice. He sat on his haunches and tried to appear as non-threatening as possible. He stared into her terrified eyes and willed her to understand.
It’s only me, Mary Kate. Your Liam.
Again, he thought at her, wishing with all his might for a human voice. He sat on his haunches and tried to appear as non-threatening as possible. He stared into her terrified eyes and willed her to understand.
It’s only me, Mary Kate. Your Liam.
I think not.
The monster—the one Father Murray had magicked away with his hypnotism—mocked.
You’re not you. You’re me.
The monster—the one Father Murray had magicked away with his hypnotism—mocked.
You’re not you. You’re me.
Liam thought back at the creature,
Leave us be. Mary Kate and I, we can be together again.
Leave us be. Mary Kate and I, we can be together again.
Horn calls and triumphant howls came from the woods above. The other hunters weren’t far now. Mary Kate bit her lip. A fearful whine escaped her throat and an overwhelming need to protect her left Liam breathless.
It’s all right, love. Stay as you are,
he thought at her.
I’m here. I’ll take care of it.
he thought at her.
I’m here. I’ll take care of it.
Sod off!
The monster snarled.
You’ve no say. None I don’t grant you. Not in this place. How does it feel to be the one left watching? You have no power here.
Liam felt a growl rumble deep in the back of his throat. He struggled to force the creature back into unconsciousness, but it had control of the body now. Helpless, Liam felt his own haunches bunch, gathering energy for an attack.
The monster snarled.
You’ve no say. None I don’t grant you. Not in this place. How does it feel to be the one left watching? You have no power here.
Liam felt a growl rumble deep in the back of his throat. He struggled to force the creature back into unconsciousness, but it had control of the body now. Helpless, Liam felt his own haunches bunch, gathering energy for an attack.
I’m here,
the monster thought—its internal voice a mockery of Liam’s own.
It’s all right, love.
the monster thought—its internal voice a mockery of Liam’s own.
It’s all right, love.
Mary Kate’s hand splashed into the water. Discomfort flashed across her face in response. It was clear she didn’t like the pond any more than he did, but she’d fling herself into the water if she must.
No, Mary Kate! Don’t! It’s not safe!
Liam looked at the water. The thing that had stalked him to this place was down there—he didn’t need to see it. He knew.
Stop this,
he thought at the monster.
Please don’t hurt her.
Liam looked at the water. The thing that had stalked him to this place was down there—he didn’t need to see it. He knew.
Stop this,
he thought at the monster.
Please don’t hurt her.
You let that priest put me away,
the creature thought back.
You’d banish me? Fuck you. I’ll have my fun. And there’s not a fucking thing you can do about it.
the creature thought back.
You’d banish me? Fuck you. I’ll have my fun. And there’s not a fucking thing you can do about it.
A splash drew his attention again to the pond. A sickly grey-green shape neared the surface and then vanished. Whatever it was, its shadow stretched six feet. A low animal sound halfway between a whale’s moan and an insect’s staccato vibration broke free of the water. It was joined by Mary Kate’s terrified keen.
The other hunters had reached the fallen tree. He could hear them making their way down the broken path. Trapped between the thing in the water, the hunters and the wolfhound, Liam watched Mary Kate search for escape.
Yes,
the monster thought.
Run.
the monster thought.
Run.
Oh, Christ. I won’t let you do this. Let her go.
Liam again fought for control but knew he couldn’t without iron or steel.
Liam again fought for control but knew he couldn’t without iron or steel.
Mary Kate looked into the woods beyond the monster-Hound and screamed.
“Hello, sweetheart. Glad to see me?”
Liam felt a cold hand slam between his shoulders. He darted from under the hand’s grip and whirled, snarling. Detective Inspector Haddock laughed and brought up a gun.
The monster staggered backward, slipped in the mud, and landed in the pond with a splash. As the water closed over Liam’s head, bone-deep cold smashed into him and for a moment he couldn’t think, let alone breathe. In an instant he lost all sense of direction. The water was deep, too deep to find the bottom. His lungs began their demand for air. Mary Kate’s muffled screams filtered through the painful cold. Then something slimy and sharp grasped one of his hind legs and yanked. He yelped in shock and most of his precious air supply sped to the surface in a gush of bubbles. He was pulled down deeper into the darkness. Mary Kate was in trouble. He could hear her. He fought the thing that held him, kicking and biting. He
would
save her. He didn’t care what he had to do. Haddock was up there. He had to—
would
save her. He didn’t care what he had to do. Haddock was up there. He had to—
“Liam!”
A bearded man dressed in red plaid flannel pajamas was shaking him. The man’s brown hair was disheveled and his horn-rimmed glasses were askew. It took a moment before recognition set in, and Liam remembered where he was.
“Father?”
“You were screaming. Are you all right?”
Somewhere outside the flat an alarm shrieked, muted by thick concrete and stone. Liam sat up, rubbing his face. The beard itched. A powerful sense of relief blurred his vision. “A dream. Was only a dream.” He blinked back raw emotions, suddenly remembering the cameras mounted in the ceiling.
Father Murray whispered, “You were calling out for Mary Kate. That’s the fifth time this week.”
Same dream for weeks. That thing in the water. Mary Kate. Was all so real. Never saw Haddock before. What does it mean? Or is it only a nightmare?
It wasn’t all that unusual, having the bad dreams. Liam had had them from the time he was a child. Now that he was an adult, he had nightmares so often that he’d become immune to their well-worn horrors. Occasionally, he’d have the bad night—maybe once or twice a week, but this—
It wasn’t all that unusual, having the bad dreams. Liam had had them from the time he was a child. Now that he was an adult, he had nightmares so often that he’d become immune to their well-worn horrors. Occasionally, he’d have the bad night—maybe once or twice a week, but this—
Someone in heavy boots was running in the hall outside, several someones to be exact. Guards, he assumed. The alarm was still whooping on the other side of the thick cinderblock wall. Father Murray didn’t seem to hear it.
“You should talk to someone about this. If not me, then someone else.”
Father Murray and his fucking psychology,
Liam thought.
Always digging.
“It’s nothing. Only a dream.”
Liam thought.
Always digging.
“It’s nothing. Only a dream.”
“Right.” Father Murray smoothed sleep-tousled hair. “Care for a cup of tea?” It was obvious he hadn’t given up on the fight—only delayed it.
Liam grabbed his watch from the nightstand and slipped it on. The feel of cold steel against his bare skin was a comfort. “It’s four in the morning, Father. Anyway, don’t you think you should answer that?”
“Answer what?”
The screws began shouting and pounding against the front door.
So, you’re having a wee problem with your fucking door, are you?
Liam couldn’t stop a small smile.
Liam couldn’t stop a small smile.
“Ah. I see.” Father Murray went to the bedroom door, checked the sitting room and sighed. “Meet me in the kitchen after they’ve gone.”
A loud bang and crash from the sitting room announced the arrival of the screws. Booted feet thundered across the floor. Guns clattered. “Guardian Murray!”
“I’m here! I’m here! Everything is fine. I have everything in hand. Return to your post.”
“The creature, is it secured?”
Father Murray shut the bedroom door with a firm slam.
Shifting to the edge of the bed and grabbing a shirt to cover his bare chest, Liam listened. Screws were screws and unlike Father Murray, Liam understood how the game was played. The only factor was how far the Church’s screws were prepared to go. In Her Majesty’s prisons, a Republican’s life wasn’t worth much. Here? The Church was the Church after all. On the other hand, he was here because they suspected him for a demon which was a far cry from an ordinary Republican—even among Loyalists.
Wouldn’t take much to make it look like you killed the priest.
Liam fervently wished his Uncle hadn’t planted that worry in his mind.
Liam fervently wished his Uncle hadn’t planted that worry in his mind.
“His name is Liam Kelly, not ‘creature.’ Can’t you lot remember that? I said everything was fine. Why don’t you clear out so we can get some sleep?”
“Sorry, Guardian, but we have our orders. Can you explain why the door was jammed?”
Unable to lock his own door, Liam hadn’t been able to sleep—not well and not for long. Unlike his bedroom, the suite’s outer door was fitted with a normal knob. Therefore, he’d set a kitchen chair against the outer door after Father Murray had returned from his meeting and gone to bed. Liam supposed he should’ve told Father Murray about it but didn’t think it would come up until the morning.
Father Murray sighed. “That’s my fault. I didn’t trust we’d be left to sleep in peace. Apparently, I was correct.”
Another lie? Father, that’s getting to be a bad habit,
Liam thought. He searched for some socks to serve as slippers. Based on what he could hear, he guessed there were six screws.
Six? Do they not have anything else to do?
Liam thought. He searched for some socks to serve as slippers. Based on what he could hear, he guessed there were six screws.
Six? Do they not have anything else to do?
“The alarm activated. We must perform a visual check of the creature—”
Father Murray interrupted the screw. “He can hear you, you know.”
“Security procedure must be followed. Need I remind you that the rules are not only for your own safety but for the operational integrity of this facility, Father?”
Liam wasn’t sure but he thought there might have been a hint of fear in the screw’s voice.
Father Murray sighed again. “Get on with it.”
The bedroom door flew open. For a moment, Liam was overwhelmed as a multitude of scents filled his nose—some mundane and others less so: the sweat of excitement; coffee; pipe tobacco; milky tea; whiskey; spearmint and underneath it all a horrible stench of burned decay. His heart jolted with recognition. He knew that odor. He’d sensed it in the past whenever the Fallen were near. However, before he could note which smells originated from which guard, he was dragged from the bed and thrown against the wall face-first. His lower lip split open, caught between his teeth and the wall. He tasted blood, and his eyes watered with the sharp pain.
“What were you up to, demon? Why did you jam the door?”
Liam reached a hand to his bleeding mouth, but it was slapped away. Pain exploded in his right kidney.
Ah,
he thought, gasping.
It’s to be a hiding, then.
Ah,
he thought, gasping.
It’s to be a hiding, then.
Another punch landed in his back and another. They knew what they were about. Three blows and he couldn’t breathe. With the exception of the face to the wall all the hits had landed where it would show the least. He was released, and he dropped to the floor.
“What the hell are you doing?” Father Murray asked.
One of the screws reiterated the need for safety procedures and regulations. A rough pat down commenced, and Liam gritted his teeth against rising panic. He lost track of what the others were doing. He tried to ignore the hands on his body, but couldn’t.
This is nothing,
Liam thought, reassuring himself.
Stay calm. It’s only a quick search. Happens every day on the outside. No more strip searches. Father Murray promised. A brush down. That’s all. No sense in over-reacting—
This is nothing,
Liam thought, reassuring himself.
Stay calm. It’s only a quick search. Happens every day on the outside. No more strip searches. Father Murray promised. A brush down. That’s all. No sense in over-reacting—
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