Bound by Legend: A Bound Novel (5 page)

“Naw, I bought a whole carton of them.” Jake offered a cigarette to Patsy, who accepted it, then dug two packs out of the worn duffle he carried. “Here,” he handed one to Patsy and the other to her, “enjoy.”

“Thanks man. I’ll find a way to repay you,” Morgan said, stuffing the pack into her coat pocket.

“You already did.” He pointed to the stocking cap on his head.

Morgan blew out a lungful of smoke and laughed. “If you insist.”

“I do insist.” He pulled a bottle whiskey from his coat pocket and took a deep pull off it.

Morgan didn’t comment. She knew he drank to smother the nightmares. If it wasn’t for the fact she needed to always be alert for demons, Morgan wouldn’t have minded a drunken sleep herself. A sleep free of memories. Instead, when he offered the bottle, she took a single, deep swig and then handed it back.

She only smoked half the cigarette before putting it out and tucking the long butt into her front jean pocket for later. Leaning her head back against the cement wall, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of a full stomach and the warmth of the whiskey running through her veins.

Able to relax a bit, she dozed lightly. The night wore on but real sleep eluded her, as it often did, especially when she slept in a group. She’d spent far too many nights here this winter; it would be nice when the weather finally warmed up for good.

Through the half-sleep she listened to the murmurs of the other’s in the tower and the crackling of flames. Occasionally, something off would be thrown into one of the barrels and the rank smoke from it burning would wake her fully or the breeze outside would shift and come through the doorway in an icy rush that reeked of frozen urine from the alley.

At one point, a flash of heat flowed through Morgan’s face and her eyes flew open. Nothing was out of place. Lucy lay with her chin on Morgan’s knee, Jake snored lightly, Patsy lay curled up on her side against the wall. Maybe the breeze had carried a little more of the barrel’s heat her way. Closing her eyes, she dozed off again.

Only briefly did sleep pull her under long enough to dream. It was a nightmare, like her dreams often were. She listened to the loud voice of her foster father as he yelled and stormed through the house. Her bedroom door shuddered and flew open, pieces of wood and trim flying into the room. Like every other time this nightmare visited, her sister’s face floated across her vision and then Morgan jerked awake with her heart racing.

With shaking hands, she lit a cigarette and took a deep pull on it. As her pulse slowly resumed its normal pace, she was again thankful that nightmare never ran its full course. The other nightmare, the one that sometimes visited, where she was in a tight space being suffocated by the oppressive dark, that one was harder to wake up from.

She quietly finished her cigarette, not wanting to disturb Jake who looked like he was actually sleeping for once. Maybe the whiskey had given him enough of a reprieve to find rest without his own nightmares invading. After Morgan ground out the butt, she leaned her head against the wall and allowed herself a shallow doze.

The sun was already up when Jake began to toss and turn, mumbling incoherently in a distressed tone. Even though she knew better, she had to try and wake him up. As a person who suffered from nightmares, she knew only too well how terrifying it could be to feel trapped in them.

Morgan got up, climbed out of the sleeping bag, and knelt to shake his shoulder. The moment she touched him, Jake bolted awake, kind of. His cold hands clamped around her neck as he threw her to the floor. Morgan tried to break his hold. That wasn’t going to happen. Though Jake never spoke of it, whatever he’d been in the military he’d been well trained.

Jake, his face twisted with the memories from another time, spit curses at her. Little black spots swirled across her vision as her lungs burned for air and her heart hammered in her chest.

Bringing her fist up, she slammed it into his jaw. Patsy stood at the edge of her dimming vision, ringing her hands and chanting about cats and bats. Lucy barked warnings and whined. Morgan was losing strength fast. In the limited space between them, she raised her foot and smashed it against his knee. He only tightened his grip.

Lucy charged, hitting Jake with one hundred ten pounds of Rottweiler. Latching on to his arm with a snarl, she dragged him away from Morgan. Jake kicked and cursed at the dog. Using her powerful muscles, Lucy yanked him off his feet. Jake’s head hit the concrete floor and his eyes rolled back as he blacked out.

Rubbing her throat, Morgan said, “Enough!”

Lucy immediately released Jake’s arm. Morgan patted her leg and the dog came to her. She put her arm around Lucy and sighed, thankful yet again for her friend. Coughing to clear her throat, she scooted around and pulled the long butt from her pocket. It was broken in three little pieces.

“Shit.” She crawled past Jake’s sprawled form and pulled his pack of cigarettes from the duffle. “You owe me this for trying to kill me, buddy.”

It wasn’t really his fault. She knew better than to touch Jake while he slept, and he hadn’t found reality when he woke. It didn’t excuse his behavior. She still didn’t hold it against him. She couldn’t fault him for his demons, not when she carried so many of her own both figuratively
and
literally.

Patsy had taken her cart and her cat and left, as had most of the others. Stuffing the pack in her coat pocket, she walked out to the alley. Looking both ways to make sure she was alone, she made use of the relative privacy. Lucy walked a short way away and did the same.

Afterward, they returned to the building. Poking around, Morgan found a few things that could still be burned and lowered them into the barrel, careful not to let any of them slam into the metal side. Last thing she needed was Jake waking up to a loud bang. Sighing she sat back down and took a sip of the little bit of icy coffee still in her cup. Lighting a cigarette, she sucked in the first drag and leaned back against the wall to wait for Jake to wake.

After about thirty minutes, he began to stir. Morgan lit another cigarette and watched him. Lucy sat up, her ears forward, brown eyes intent as she stared at the potential threat to her person.

Jake rubbed the back of his head and groaned. Frowning, he held his arm up, examining the tears and small blood stains in the sleeve of his coat. Shoving the sleeve up to expose a forearm covered in tattoos, he wiped away the small amount of blood. His several layers of shirts under the coat had likely saved him from too much damage from Lucy’s teeth.

“What the hell?” He looked around.

Morgan smiled when his eyes met hers. “Good morning. Sorry about your coat and arm. Well, and your head I suppose. Lucy didn’t have a choice.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, not much. You tried to choke me to death earlier and Lucy had to get you off me…again. If your jaw and your knee hurt, that was me.”

“Shit! Morgan, I’m so sorry. I don’t even remember it.”

He looked so remorseful she gave him a reassuring smile. “Forget it. I’ve been through worse and it’s not like you knew what you were doing.”

He threw an arm over his face and groaned, “Damn it. I would never knowingly hurt you, Morgan.”

“Don’t worry, I paid you back. Since you broke my long butt by forcing to me try and get you off, I stole your pack of cigarettes from your bag.” She blew a lungful of smoke at him.

He sat up slowly and pulled his duffle over to him. “I already gave you one.”

“Yeah, I know. I figured you owed me another for choking me and making Lucy attack you. She normally considers you a friend you know. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for her.”

Jake chuckled darkly as he examined his arm. “She did a good job regardless. No less than I deserve I suppose.”

Extracting a cigarette from a new pack, he lit it and took a long drag and frowned. “I know you’re a fast healer, but damn. Your bruises are almost completely gone.”

Morgan worked her mouth, noticing the lack of pain for the first time. Even her teeth felt solid again. Strange. It had happened several times over the winter. Not that she could really complain. Nor could she explain to Jake why she healed fast at all. Time to change the subject.

“What were you dreaming?” Morgan studied his face when she asked.

He shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Jake laughed bitterly. “Answer your country’s call to duty and perform it well so you can come home with your mind screwed up with all of the damn shit you’ve seen. What a damn joke.”

“Sucks,” Morgan agreed as she finished her cigarette and got to her feet. Rolling up her sleeping bag and tying it to the bottom of her backpack again, she wished there was something she could say to ease Jake’s pain. If there was one thing she’d learned, if someone was struggling with something, silence could be more supportive than shallow platitudes. “I gotta get going. I need to keep on the move.”

He nodded. “See you around?”

“I’ll be around. You going to be at the park this evening?”

Jake blew out a cloud of smoke. “Probably.”

“Then I probably will be, too.” She adjusted the stocking cap on her head and pulled her hood up. “See ya, Jake.”

Morgan stepped into the alley for the second time that morning. Lucy stopped beside her, waiting to see where they would go next. By that evening she would circle to the park if she could and spend time with Jake before moving on again.

Morgan loved the evenings spent with Jake in the park. As long as she kept the times she showed up there irregular, the demons didn’t seem to realize she visited there often. Of course, if her demon radar even hinted at one nearby when she got close to the park, she wouldn’t set foot there.

The falling snow had tapered off to nothing more than flurries. With no destination in mind, Morgan started off. She would find someplace sheltered from the wind and they would have a couple of the cheeseburgers in her pocket.

LUCIAN SAT AT
Isobel and Damien’s kitchen table two weeks after his arrival at their house. The search for Morgan had been frustratingly futile. They checked the soup kitchen at the church every evening, but she was keeping herself scarce. He figured either the nun or Jake had tipped her off that she was being looked for and for whatever reason, she didn’t want to be found. A friend of Damien’s checked the police records and there were no warrants for her or anything so he couldn’t imagine why she wanted to remain hidden.

The only thing that had gone right was the search for a house. Isobel had proved quite proficient and located a house one block down from theirs. Lucian had closed on it earlier that morning. It made sense that house hunting went better than Morgan hunting. The damn houses were stationary objects.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. Damien and Isobel would be back from the store soon and it would be time to visit the soup kitchen again. Maybe she would be there. Or maybe Jake, who had been suspiciously absent since that first night. Lucian was determined that this time, he would answer some questions. The safety of his channel was in question, Lucian should be able to use compulsion on the guy.

The front door swung open as Isobel and Damien came in, their hands full of sacks. Lucian immediately moved to help them with the load. Glancing in one he saw towels and a shower curtain. “What’s all of this? Are you two redecorating or something?”

“Or something,” Damien said, looking pointedly at Isobel.

“What?” She looked at him with wide eyed innocence. The kind of look a woman wore when she was guilty as hell.

Lucian frowned. “What’s the ‘or something?’ What did you do, Isobel?”

“Oh honestly, Lucian. How do you ever survive without a channel?” She dropped her bags on the couch and tossed her purse in a corner.

“I survive just fine. What’s all of this about?”

Isobel propped her hands on her hips. “I’m assuming you plan to move into your new house.”

“Of course I am. What’s your point?” What was she going on about?

Damien set the bags in his hands down. “Isobel has decided you can’t possibly move in with nothing. She dragged me to a furniture store and outfitted your entire house. They will be delivering it this evening. All of this,” he waved to the bags, “is Isobel’s domestic side coming out. She even called Elizabeth to tell her you’d bought a house here so she could seek her mother’s advice on the best stuff to buy.”