A Coat Red as Holly Page 5

  A sharp throbbing ache started low in my belly. It pulsed and receded. After a moment, it happened again. It's probably just a cramp. I willed my brain to believe it, but my palms tingled with another rush of nerves all the same. I tried to push the butterflies back down to the bottom of my stomach where they belonged with a dep breath. That's when I noticed a strange, syrupy smell hung in the air. I didn’t have a name for it, but as soon as I sensed it the butterflies in my stomach transformed into dragons roaring to get out.

  Straifield is out in the country. I know what roadkill smells like, and thanks to my accident I also know the smell of open wounds, but this went beyond that. It saturated the air, and I nearly gagged as the smell translated to a film I could practically taste on my tongue.

  I jerked the neck of my coat up over my nose just as my stomach gave a violent heave.

  A loud whooshing noise from behind the walls made me jump. Water gushed through the pipes traveling to the other end of the house toward Grandma’s room. As much as the sound startled me, it relieved me to hear a sign that I wasn't alone. But that smell…! What had Grandma been doing while I was gone?

  Shakily, I got to my feet and started walking toward Grandma’s room. I kept my nose covered and gulped air through my mouth.

  I could hear water running in the bathroom. Considering her ongoing feuds with the utility companies over how much she owed each month, she'd started taking short, frequent hot showers instead of turning up the heat. Fortunately, my body temperature ran warmer than usual these days or I'd have put my foot down because the temperature in the house stayed somewhere around sixty degrees.

  After the summer solstice dew bath incident, Grandma made a point of keeping the bathroom door closed while she bathed. I turned the corner and saw her bedroom door half-open. A sliver of light streaked across the hall floor. Eirawen gave a kick that made me stop and cover my stomach as her foot rolled beneath my skin like a wave headed for shore.

  Fear ballooned inside my chest.

  "G-grandma?" My voice shook so badly it came out barely more than a whisper. I stepped into the dining room, and the smell grew so strong I stopped to gulp a few breaths to keep from gagging. I recognized the smell of blood now—lots of it.

  Had she fallen in the shower? She wasn’t frail, but she was old enough for me to worry about her slipping in the tub.

  With the dim glow from the bathroom lighting her room up from within, I couldn’t shake the feeling I'd stepped into a horror movie scene. 'Don't open the door!' My subconscious was an invisible audience yelling, and my mind was the tv screen.

  A contraction clamped down on my belly like jaws. I gasped and curled in on myself at the unexpected attack.

  "Gah! Grandma!"

  The water shut off. Without the steady rush of it through the pipes, I could hear that the wind had picked up outside. The whistle of it through the trees rose into a piercing howl. The sound lifted the fine hairs at the base of my neck.

  Something's not right. Get back. Go for help. I shook my head against the small voice that wouldn’t stop whispering in my ear.

  At my last doctor's appointment, the nurse warned me it was normal to feel anxious and worried with my due date so close. I leaned a hand against the dining room table and let my breath out through my nose. Everything was fine. I was letting my imagination get the better of me.

  I heard a heavy thump from Grandma's room. The house shuddered with the weight of it. My unease spiked again. I gulped. Maybe she wasn't okay after all.

  Movement beyond her door made me pause. A figure stepped in front of the bathroom light. A long, unfamiliar shadow stretched out into the hall. Someone gave a deep, muffled grunt followed by another softer series of thumps like a body falling to the floor.

  The blood drained from my face. Someone was in the house!

  I stepped away from the table, looking around for a weapon or a sign telling me what I should do. With early labor beginning there weren’t many weapons that would give me the upper hand for long, and Grandma wasn't the type to own any guns. I backed up to the sliding doors that led out to the patio. I spun to pull it open, but either the lock was broken or too warped to slide.

  That’s when the next cramp came. It wrung my insides so tight that it dropped me to my knees. My elbow knocked a dining chair into the buffet table pushed against the wall. Grandma's collection of porcelain cats rattled loudly. Their painted narrow eyes scowled as if they were tattling on me. The chair overturned and hit the floor with a dull thud.

  With the element of surprise lost, I lunged for the garage door, but my body wasn't built for speed anymore. My sudden lurch got me to my knees, but the overturned chair blocked my path. Even if I made it outside I could never get to the nearest neighbor's house before whoever broke into Grandma’s caught up to me.

  Looking around frantically, my eyes landed on the dining room table. Grandma's antique tablecloth reached to the ground. I crawled under the yellow linen and rolled onto my elbows, aiming my feet to kick anyone who approached from the direction of Grandma's room. A low moan escaped me as the next contraction came. I dug my fingers into the soft threads of Grandma's rug, gritting my teeth against the pain that funneled down my spine. If the intruder didn't leave soon I was going to end up giving birth under the table, and there was no way I could keep that noise to myself.

  I held my breath as heavy footsteps stomped across the living room. Thanks to the chair tugging the tablecloth off-kilter, just enough space appeared beneath its hem for me to see the lining of white, grass-stained sneakers. Too big to be a woman’s, they headed into the den. After a couple more steps I lost sight of them. I bit my lip, relieved that they were leaving. I'd be able to call for help and maybe not have to give birth alone.

  The door hinges whined as he pulled it open. I counted my heartbeats in the silence that followed. At the heavy suctioning sound of it thudding closed, I gasped with relief.

  "Gwen?" Lyall sounded perplexed.

  Fabric rustled in the den as he moved the throw pillows and blankets searching for me. A second later the legs of the couch screeched across the floorboards. Dusting his hands against one another, he came to stand in the open doorway leading into the dining room. His left shoe appeared at the far corner of the table. A thick, gooey red substance splashed up to the laces.

  "I can hear you breathing, you know," he said, sounding impatient now. His sneaker lifted off the ground and disappeared from sight. I strained my ears, wondering if he'd snuck into the kitchen to search for me there. If so, he moved as quiet as a ghost.

  Hands shaking, I lifted the table skirt behind me to reach for the silverware Grandma kept laid out as if she expected dinner guests to drop in at any time. My fingertips brushed a spoon, and the silverware rattled. I cringed and twisted my body frantically so I wouldn't make more noise as I groped for the butter knife. Closing my fingers on the handle, I snatched it into my shelter. I hugged it to my chest with a silent prayer, and then twisted forward and screamed.

  Lyall crouched on all fours with his face barely a foot from mine.

  The blood on his shoe was nothing compared to the spray of it that coated his shirt. He must have tried to wash it off his face because his hair still dripped water. Muddy red streaks ran down the sides of his neck.

  "Come on, we've got to go," he said grimly, holding out his hand to me. I scuttled backwards, and stopped abruptly when another cramp sank its teeth in and made me whimper.

  "What's wrong?" The genuine concern was so out of place I nearly laughed.

  "What are you doing here?"

  "Since you seem to be just as crazy as your grandma, I thought maybe she could talk some sense into you that your mom and I can't." His eyes went out of focus, and I watched the color leave his face. He swallowed, shook his head, and brushed his damp hair back from his forehead.

  "Lyall, why are you covered in blood?"

  "She attacked me!" He said it too quickly. "She was in the kitchen cutting up some chicken whe
n I came in. I told her I wanted to marry you, and she started having one of her episodes. She said I didn’t deserve you, that you were meant for someone else. I told her that he obviously didn’t care about you like I do if he left you here all alone." Real heat inflamed those words.

  "She didn’t like that. She told me to get out, but I said I wasn’t leaving until you got home and we talked. She swung her knife at me." He grimaced and balled his hands into fists. "It was an accident. I knew she just wanted to scare me, but when I told her I wouldn’t go until I talked to you she swung at me again. She got closer that time, so I blocked her arm and she dropped the knife. I just wanted to pin her arms so she wouldn't hurt me, but she fought me, and we tripped and fell…." Muscles in his jaw flexed, and the frantic light faded from his eyes as they locked on mine.

  "It's going to be okay, Gwen. Don't worry. I'll take care of everything."

  He said it so calmly, like he hadn't just admitted to killing my grandmother. Her blood still dripped off his hand as he reached out for mine.

  "Don't touch me!" I hissed, scooting back. I kicked at him, but one of the other chair legs stood in the way, so it didn't connect. He sank onto his heels, frowning like an obedience trainer at a puppy that refused to learn a simple command.

  "What is the matter with you?" he finally snapped. "What is so wrong with me that you refuse to accept my help?" My mouth dropped open and shock quickly dissolved into fury.

  "You killed my grandmother!"

  "It was an accident!" He roared back.

  "Either way she's dead, and it's your fault!" The truth of that seemed to finally break through to him. His eyes dropped from mine to study the floor where some of the blood from his clothes smeared rust-colored stains into the carpet.

  "Come out from under there. I've got an idea." He spoke more to himself than to me as he backed out from under the table and swung away to head into the kitchen. I heard him pick up the chorded phone of the wall hook. "I'll call for help—tell them I walked you home, and when your grandma saw me she got confused and attacked. Anyone who's met your grandma won't have any trouble believing she’d do something crazy like that."

  Relief lightened his tone considerably. I edged out to where I could see him, but an uncomfortable sensation spread throughout my hips that warned me not to risk trying to stand. The baby was coming. I couldn’t deny it now. Maybe if I let Lyall call for help I'd at least get an ambulance here in time.

  "What's wrong with your phone?" He snarled, slamming it down on the receiver before picking it up again. My eyes rolled shut. Grandma forgot to pay the phone bill again.

  "You can come out from under there. I'm not going to attack you, you know." He sounded petulant.

  I stared at him like I'd never seem him before. We'd been friends for so long I got used to his faults. I knew he could get a bit whiny. Being overshadowed by his brother all the time left him with a permanent chip on his shoulder. I used to be the one who stood by him when everyone else fawned over Ian—not that I hadn't fawned over him too.

  "Lyall, you need to go," I said, putting as much strength as I could muster into my voice. Maybe if I acted like I wanted to help him he'd leave to save himself. He shook his head. His whole body started to tremble as the reality of what he'd done caught up to him.

  "No. If I run they'll never believe it was an accident. Why are you looking at me like that?” His slammed his fist on the counter. Rather than intimidate me, it only called up my own anger, anger that he could be so stupid, that he thought he had the right to barge into my home and change my life simply because I told him ‘no.’

  "The baby’s coming!" I snarled. "Otherwise, I’d kick your ass!" The words ended on a roar as the contractions started in earnest. Unfortunately, as the pain of my labor began, Lyall fully realized the situation he was in. If he ran, the police would chase him. If he stayed, I would make sure they knew what he'd done.

  Abruptly, he rushed around the counter and flipped the dining room table with a roar of frustration. It crashed into the buffet, taking the chairs down with it. I barely missed getting hit by a table leg. I couldn't hide my squeak of fright. Without the table I felt exposed and vulnerable.

  Lyall advanced on me, grimly determined.

  “We’re going to get out of here. Whether you like it or not, Gwen, you’re coming with me.”

  The sliding door to the patio exploded.

  I screamed and leaned forward to protect my face from flying glass. Lyall stood in front of the window so he blocked the worst of the debris. In the shattered doorway stood a wolf the size of a tiger with yellow eyes ringed in flames. Lyall reached to yank me in front of him to use as a human shield, but the wolf was faster. A snarling, silver-white comet rocketed through the air.

  The huge paws struck Lyall in the chest with a hollow thud. White teeth sank into the soft flesh beneath his chin. Lyall didn’t even have time to scream before the sound dissolved in a gurgle. I squeezed my eyes shut. My nose picked up the smell of fresh blood even before I heard it splatter across the walls.

  When it was done with him, the wolf shook its prize vigorously before dropping Lyall like a stick. Lifting its head to the rafters, the wolf let out a piercing howl. Finally, it turned on me.

  Blood dripped from its jaws, and a crimson wave stained the white fur down its chest.

  As our eyes met, my belly gave an unmistakable clench. I sank my teeth through my bottom lip and groped blindly for anything that would anchor me through the ordeal about to come.

  V.

  I gave birth on the longest night of the year. Midwinter, Grandma called it. Time hovered in place as my daughter slowly slid into the world. The wolf’s ears pricked forward when her first thin cry filled the air. I didn't have much strength left, but feebly, I cradled little Eirawen tight against my chest.

  Cleaning her off with the edges of the tablecloth revealed skin so pale it gave off a glow like moonlight. A tiny patch of dark hair curled onto her forehead like a shadow. She was beautiful—absolutely perfect.

  I looked for something I could wrap her in. The wolf moved on silent paws to drag my red coat over to us from where I flung it trying to get out of my clothes. The great beast stood over me with the red fabric trailing from its teeth.

  Too tired to be afraid, I took it gratefully and bundled Eirawen in its warmth. My movements were slow, like I was underwater. When I tried to tuck the blanket under her chin my hand simply stopped listening and dropped against her tiny chest. I knew what that meant. I’d been in that state before.

  Helpless anger welled up inside me. I blinked back tears.

  What was the point? I glared at the wolf. Why save my life and give me this beautiful little girl if he intended to rip it all away from me in the end anyway? The wolf held my gaze in an unnerving, unblinking stare

  “It never fails to impress me the damage your kind inflicts on yourselves,” said a familiar voice from the doorway.

  His antlers receded into his hair to allow him to fit through the shattered sliding door. Even without them he still appeared larger than life. His dark eyes were shadowed with emotions I couldn't read as he squatted down beside me and took in the room.

  “This is not the end I would have chosen for you, but I am bound to collect all souls that are lost. At least the child will carry the gift of your love with her the rest of her days.”

  But what about me? I wanted to scream at him, but my voice wasn't working anymore. I blinked blood out of my eyes from one of the cuts caused by the flying glass. He sighed heavily.

  “I was searching for someone the night we met in the wood. When I sent out my summons you answered the call instead. I should have known better. You are not the first in this area to be lured in by that trick. Even when they cannot see us, humans are so easily pixie led.”

  His voice came from a long way off now. The words were meaningless rumbles of sound, but stubbornly I clung to each one.

  “The one I am searching for is still out there somewhere. W
hat you sought lies there in your lap. Fate, it seems, is an enemy to us both. If you are willing, there is a way that we may join forces so that she does not get the last laugh.”

  Again? I should have learned my lesson the first time. Making deals with the faeries never turns out okay in the end. But hope is a horrible, treacherous, tantalizing thing.

  What else did I have to lose?

  My body began to shake, a slow tremor that vibrated along every limb. Already the Otherworld drew me like an undertow. My spirit shook loose inside my body, still contained by it, but only just. I watched, removed, as the bones in my hand began shifting and contorting into a ginormous paw.

  "You are a warrior, young one. Even as death folds you in its embrace you are fighting with strength you no longer possess. I would be honored to have such an ally stand and fight at my side."

  My skin itched as red fur sprouted. My mouth dropped open, and I began to pant. Confused, I whined.

  A flurry of magic swirled around me, lifting Eirawen to lay her safely on the ground as my body continued to change. He sat with one knee drawn up to watch the transformation happen. Mine wasn’t nearly as smooth and graceful as his.

  "I cannot take you from the jaws of death twice. There are some rules not even I am inclined to break. For your courage, for your strength, I offer you a place in my pack. With the Wild Hunt you will always have a place to belong.” He nodded at Eirawen. “You can watch over your daughter and protect her from my world, however she will not know you are there. She is in enough danger for what she is without the ability to pierce through faery glamour."

  My face stretched into a long, pointed snout. As my jaw reshaped, my teeth grew sharper and lengthened. Lastly, the color leeched from my vision until all the colors were muted.