Half Wild (19 page)

This isn’t good. This isn’t good. Annalise’s heartbeat is far too fast. It’s getting stronger all the time but it’s not normal, not regular. My hand is on her neck, feeling her pulse, which is racing faster and faster—and then I feel no pulse, nothing. It’s stopped. This is the second time it has stopped. Last time it started again on its own after ten seconds. I count the seconds:

Five

And six

And seven

And eight

Come on come on

And ten

And eleven

Oh shit oh shit

And a beat, faint, faint like before, and another, and another, each a little stronger. This is the pattern. Oh shit! If it’s a pattern it’s going to happen again and again.

I still have my hand on her neck. Van hasn’t come back and I’m not sure—

Her eyes flutter open.

“Annalise? Can you hear me?”

She’s looking at me but not seeing me.

And her heart’s going faster and faster again, and harder and stronger, but far too fast now.

And it stops, again.

“Annalise. Annalise.”

And four

And five

And six

And seven

And eight

And nine

Please, please breathe

Please

Please . . .

Her eyes close.

Oh no, oh no.

But then I feel it again, faint but there, her pulse.

It’s building again but not so fast. Am I just trying to convince myself? Annalise doesn’t open her eyes.

“Annalise. It’s Nathan. I’m here. You’re waking up. I’m here. Take your time. Breathe slow. Slow.”

Her pulse seems to be steadying, fast but not racing as frighteningly as before, and she feels warmer too. I hold her hand and it’s so thin, so bony, it scares me.

“Annalise. I’m here. You’re waking. I’m with you.”

Her eyelids flutter again and they open. She looks ahead but still isn’t focusing on me. Her eyes look wrong; they look dead. There are no silver glints in them. And now I feel her heart begin to accelerate again, going faster and faster. Oh no. Her eyes are still open and her heart is racing so fast and so hard I think it’s going to burst out of her chest and then—

“No. No. Annalise. No.”

I check but I know her heart has stopped again.

I can’t count anymore. Can’t face it. Oh shit. Oh shit. Do I do heart massage or something? I need her on a hard surface for that. I slide my arms under her, lift her, and she’s so light, far too light. I lay her down on the floor gently and I’m not sure what to do.

I put my hands on her chest and push and push. There’s a song I think you’re supposed to do this to; I vaguely remember Arran telling me. It’s fast. That’s all I remember. I push on her chest, massage her heart, get it beating again. But really I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I’m doing it right but all I can do now is keep going. I have to keep going.

“Nathan. What’s happening?”

It’s Van. She’s kneeling beside me.

“Her heart keeps stopping. Her eyes opened but they looked dead and her heart’s stopped again.”

“You’re doing the right thing.”

“I think I’ve broken her ribs. I don’t know how hard to do this.”

“You’re doing fine. Ribs can heal.”

Van feels Annalise’s neck, her forehead, her cheek.

She passes me a cigarette. “One breath every minute into her mouth until the cigarette’s gone. It’ll strengthen her heart, though it might weaken yours.”

I inhale on the cigarette and as I breathe the smoke into Annalise’s mouth I feel myself go light-headed. I inhale again and feel OK but as I breathe out my head swims as if I’m giving Annalise all my strength. My lips are close to hers. I look into her eyes but nothing has changed. I take another puff of the cigarette and as I breathe out into Annalise’s mouth my lips brush hers. Her eyes don’t change. I do it again, another breath out, and my lips are clumsy on hers and I look at her eyes and they’re glinting.

“Nathan?”

“Yes, I’m here.” I feel Van touch my shoulder and murmur, “I’ll leave you now.”

Annalise says, “Is this real?”

“Yes. We’re both real.”

“Good.” It’s a breath as much as a word.

“Yes, very good. You’ve been asleep, under a spell.”

“I’m cold.”

“I’ll try to warm you. You’ve been asleep for a long time.”

Her eyes are focused on me; the blue is intense and the silver glints move slowly, and she says, “I’m so cold.” But her hand moves, searching for mine, and I hold it. I pull a blanket down to cover her and lie close to keep her warm and I talk to her. Just repeating the same things: I’m here, she’s going to be OK, she’s been asleep, take it slow.

She’s slept for months but seems exhausted by it. Her body is too thin; her bones are sticking out and her face is drawn now that she’s woken. She looks more frail and ill than when she was asleep.

We lie together and I hold her close to keep her warm.

She asks, “Were you smoking?”

“Yes. We shared a cigarette. Not tobacco, something else.”

She doesn’t reply. I think she’s gone to sleep again but then she says, “Nathan?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

And she sleeps.

Annalise is asleep in my arms. We’ve been together like this for hours and it’s good. It’s what I’ve battled for and waited for. It’s not perfect, though. Annalise is frighteningly thin and weak.

There’s a knock on the door. I don’t want to move as I don’t want to wake Annalise. Her face is snuggled against my chest, her forehead warm now. I’m hot. Sweaty.

The door opens and an icy wind comes toward me. It’s not Mercury.

“How is she?” Gabriel’s voice is almost civil. He’s standing in the doorway to the bedroom. He looks pissed off.

“Sleeping. She’s weak. Really weak. I think she needs food. And liquids, I suppose.” I try to sound matter-of-fact, like I’m discussing a medical problem, not the girl in my arms.

Silence. A long silence.

Then he leaves, saying, “I’ll get Nesbitt on to it.”

I want to say thanks but he’d hate that and anyway he’s gone.

Annalise sleeps on.

A short while later Nesbitt appears with a bowl of something. “Soup. With a little pick-me-up of Van’s in it.” He puts it down. “Gabriel’s in a foul mood for some reason. Can’t understand him myself; after all, we’ve rescued the girl.”

I ask, “What time is it?”

“No idea. Why?”

“I’m sure it must be after dark but I don’t feel bad.”

“Oh that. Yes, it’s night. Van says Mercury must have had a spell for the bunker. To make it habitable. Very impressive apparently. Van doesn’t know how to do it.”

I remember now. Mercury had a similar spell for the cottage in Switzerland.

After Nesbitt has gone I wake Annalise as gently as I can. She opens her eyes and says, “I feel dizzy. And a bit strange.”

“You’ve been under the spell for months.” I don’t say
wasting away
but that’s what appears to have been happening.

“Months?”

“Two months.”

“Wow, that’s a long sleep.” She sits up a little and looks around. “Where are we?”

“Mercury’s home in Norway.”

“And where’s Mercury?”

“She’s dead.”

Annalise thinks about this for a few seconds and then says, “So we’re safe?”

“As safe here as anywhere, I think.” I lift the soup bowl up. “You need to eat this.”

“How did you find me? What happened to Mercury? Tell me everything that’s happened while I’ve been asleep.”

“I will if you eat.”

“Deal. I’m hungry.”

I feed her soup. I talk while she takes tiny sips, and eventually the bowl is empty and I’ve told her everything, even about my Gift, even about killing Hunters, and even about killing Pilot. She asks a few questions, not many. Mainly she’s quiet, taking it all in. She asks about the Alliance and says it sounds a good thing. And she asks about my Gift and I try to explain but it’s hard and I end up just saying that I transform. She insists that killing Hunters to protect myself is understandable but she doesn’t comment on Pilot except to say, “I would have died if it wasn’t for you.”

So I’ve told her everything. Only of course I haven’t.

I haven’t told her that one of the Hunters I killed was her brother and that I killed him by ripping his throat out. I haven’t mentioned that I tasted his blood. I haven’t mentioned anything about the blood, in fact. I haven’t told her that when I’m an animal I have a tendency to eat things, like deer and foxes and rats.

And I haven’t told her that I like being an animal.

And I definitely haven’t told her that a few hours ago I was kissing Gabriel.

But I know this is not the time for that. Annalise nearly died. She’s still not well and I just want to savor the good things about us being together.

Annalise looks at me and asks, “What’s wrong?”

I shake my head. “Nothing. I’m just worried about you. Your heart kept stopping.”

“Well, I’m feeling a bit stronger. I want to see if I can walk around.”

I get up first and Annalise swings her legs out of bed and stands and wobbles. “Whoa! Dizzy again.” I grab her and she clings to me. “But OK with you here.”

She leans on me and I hold her. She’s as fragile as glass. I’m careful not to squeeze too hard as I remember her ribs. “Do they hurt?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “A little sore.” But she winces when I touch her ribcage. “But I’m alive. I’m awake.” She smiles at me. “And my healing is working. I can feel it.”

She puts her hand up to my cheek. “You saved me, Nathan. You searched for me and risked everything for me. You’re my prince. Coming to my rescue.”

“I’m no prince.”

She leans her face up to me and kisses me on the lips. “Whatever you are, thank you.” Then she stands back and stares at me. “You look tired.”

“Rescuing people from evil witches is exhausting, I’ve discovered.”

“
You
need to rest now.” She turns. “Oh, look. A bed! That’s handy.” And she pulls me to it, saying, “Come back here with me.”

And I let her guide me to the bed and she lies down and I crawl onto it and I lie next to her. She smells so good. Even after all this time asleep, she smells clean and of her.

She says, “You
are
my prince, my hero. No one else in the world would have done what you’ve done. Not even my family. In fact especially not my family. But you, the one person everyone told me was evil . . . you risked your life to help me.”

She holds me. And I close my eyes. And lying there is good and warm and smells nice and I say to myself that in the morning I’ll tell her about Kieran.

She kisses me on my lips nervously, and a bit clumsily for Annalise. I kiss her back, pulling her body against me, and then she’s crying. And I know she’s crying with relief, at being alive, and I wipe her tears away. And she looks at me, her eyes sparkling. Her cheek is soft under my fingertips and under my lips and I kiss her face and neck and down her throat. And she kisses me too, in the same way, over my face. And we’re clinging together, my head against her chest, listening to her heart beating faster now, and I tell myself that she’s alive because of me and her heart beats because of me and that has to be good, that has to be good.

I wake up in bed, close to Annalise, so close that I can feel her warmth. I’m not used to sleeping with someone and it feels strange but nice too. She still smells of her but not so clean now, and I want to kiss her. I open my eyes. She’s smiling at me. She looks less pale.

“How are you feeling?” I ask.

“Better. A lot better. And you?”

“I’m good. But hungry, though!”

“As luck would have it Nesbitt just brought us some breakfast. I think he was using it as an excuse to meet me and to find out what we’re doing, but anyway it’s food and I’m starving too.”

“I thought I heard someone.” Normally I’d wake up instantly at the sound of someone’s voice but for once I’ve been in a deep sleep.

We eat the porridge—there’s enough for ten—and there’s jam, honey, and raisins. Annalise eats a large bowlful and lies back, saying she feels good but stinky.

“You’re not stinky.”

“I need a shower, though.” She gets up and walks to the door, saying, “I feel so much stronger. No dizziness.”

I think that’s a hint that Annalise can get to the bathroom safely alone. I lie on the bed and while I’m waiting for her to come back I fall asleep again.

I wake up as the door clicks open. I’m feeling revived, and pleased that I woke at the slightest sound, though I’m less pleased when I see it’s Nesbitt entering the room, not Annalise.

“Had a good sleep, mate?” I’m sure he doesn’t expect a reply. He picks up the porridge stuff, saying, “Time’s marching on. You’ve got to get up.”

“I’ll wait for Annalise.”

“She’s with Van. You’ve been asleep for hours, mate. Annalise and Van are checking out the bunker—it’s a rabbit warren. And I’ve been getting the range going and tidying up the mess in the hall. And Gabriel”—he grins—“Gabriel has got the job of gravedigger and you’re going to be his assistant.”

* * *

Gabriel and I are digging on the hillside. It’s slow work. The ground is hard, dry and full of large stones and roots. We have to use a pick and an ax to break the earth before we can make any impression with the spades. It takes hours and is done in silence after I realize Gabriel isn’t going to reply to anything I say, which is about five minutes into the job.

We finish late in the day as it begins to rain. The sky has darkened and a freezing wind has risen. The rain quickly turns to hail. I’m in the bottom of the bigger grave and I toss my spade out and ask Gabriel to help pull me up. I’m not sure if he’s making me wait or just leaving me but after a minute more of sleet I know I’m on my own. I clamber out, slipping in the mud and getting covered in it. Gabriel is sheltering under a tree, watching me. I want to say something about him and me, and about me and Annalise, but as usual I’ve no idea how to begin, so instead I say, “I get the feeling you’d like me to be in there permanently.” I indicate the grave with a nod of my head.

He doesn’t even reply to that but asks me, “Are you going to join the Alliance?”

“I said I would, and—”

“Black Witches aren’t renowned for keeping their promises.”

“I’m not a Black Witch, Gabriel. I’m half White. And I want to do what’s right. I think—”

“And what do you think’s right about joining them?”

“Soul is evil. He should be stopped . . . I told Annalise about the Alliance and she thinks their cause is right. She wants to join.”

Gabriel scowls. “I bet she does. Except, of course, that stopping Soul will involve killing, lots of it. Being whiter than white, being on the side of good is fine and noble and I’m sure Annalise will love that. Until she sees it up close and personal.”

“I don’t think either of us are under any illusions . . .”

Gabriel turns his head away from me and we’re silent for a few moments. I’ve never seen him in a mood like this and I can tell it’s pointless trying to explain things. I pick up my spade to go back to the bunker.

He stands in my way and says, “Talking of up close and personal . . . have you told her about you? Have you told her about your Gift?”

“Yes . . . mostly.”

“Mostly?”

I shrug.

“And you’ve told her about Kieran?”

I shake my head.

“But you’re planning on telling her?”

“Yes. Just not yet.”

“I never had you down as a coward—so that shows how much I know about people.”

“I’m trying to do my best with her, Gabriel. I’m rubbish at talking about stuff and I know I need to tell her but it’s hard. And we
are
talking; we’re talking about lots of things. You know me, and know my Black side so well, but Annalise sees the other side of me. And I admit I’m scared that she may never understand me or accept me like you do. I’m terrified of that. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t know the other side of me, the good side. She’s always been able to see that. I want to be with her. I want to be good.”

He looks at me. His face is dotted with raindrops but I think there are tears too.

“I love her. I always have. You know that.”

“And me?”

And I know he means how I feel about him and me kissing him.

“You’re my friend, Gabriel.”

“Do you kiss all your friends like that?” But he asks it without the harshness of his other questions. It’s a real question.

“Just you.”

We’re silent. I want to say something but as ever words fail me completely and I daren’t reach out to him. I know that would be wrong.

Gabriel says, “You know if we join the Alliance we’ll be lucky to end up in one of those.” He nods at the grave. “If we get caught we’ll be cut up into little bits, and I’m not sure what they do with the bits.” He jabs his spade at the ground and says, “I hope I do end up in a grave. My sister hasn’t got one—a grave, I mean.”

I nod. “All the time they kept me in the cage, I knew they could kill me at any time, and if they caught my father then they’d kill me for sure. I thought they’d bury me by the cage. But I never thought I’d have a grave or mourners or anything. And now if I’m caught and tortured and . . . well, if it happens that way, if I die that way, then that’s what will happen. I don’t want it to and I’ll do what I can to make it not happen but, let’s face it, my life isn’t ever going to be peace and harmony. I can run wherever I want but they’ll come after me, Gabriel. Whether I join the Alliance or not. You know that.

“I have a dream of a quiet life by a river but I can’t have it, at least not while Soul and Wallend are alive and there are Hunters in the world. I’ll always be looking over my shoulder and the Hunters’ll catch me sooner or later. I have to fight for the Alliance and hope that when it’s over I’ll have the life I want. A life without persecution, outside a cage. I’d like to have one day free like that. To think that nobody was after me. Nobody was hunting me. A day to enjoy. But first I have to fight.”

“It’ll be bad, Nathan. The fighting.”

“Mercury once told me that I was made for killing. I’m sure she didn’t envisage I’d kill her. But I’m beginning to think she’s right. That is what I’m made for. That’s why I’m here.”

Gabriel shakes his head. “No one’s made for killing. And you aren’t.”

“And you? What will you do?”

“If you fight then I fight too.”

“If you don’t believe in it, Gabriel, don’t do it.”

“I can’t not be with you, Nathan. I wanted to leave you in that grave and walk away and I couldn’t. I can’t walk ten paces away from you without it hurting me. I treasure every second with you. Every second. More than you know.” He looks down and then back up into my eyes. “I’ll be your friend forever. I’ll help you with each breath I take and I’ll stay with you. I love you, Nathan. From the day I met you, I loved you and I love you more each day.”

I don’t know what to say.

“But that doesn’t mean I think you’re right about things. The Alliance won’t be interested in you apart from how many people you can kill. And I think you’ll kill lots. And as for the girl you say you love, who doesn’t know the first thing about you because you’re too afraid to tell her the truth—well, I think you’re right to be afraid because she will not understand you; she cannot. And the more you kill and the more she sees that half of you . . .” He shrugs. “I think she’ll end up dreading you.”

And I think he’s finished but then he says, “As for me I’ll always love you. Even when I’m buried deep in one of those.” He nods at the grave. “I’ll still love you. Forever.”

Gabriel goes into the bunker and I stand in the rain, letting it wash some of the mud from my clothes.