Excerpt: When Darkness Calls

The Mahid’s cottage was placed deep within the forests of our territories, her house was a tedious drive that became hazardous toward the end. Trees grew wild so closely together it was impossible to fit a car between them and I was forced to shift and run the last few miles. She was waiting patiently for me, hands clasped before her, brown gaze steady and filled with silent presence. The scent of her immediately calmed my nerves, tasting like the birth of honey dew on the tip of my tongue, even as I clenched my fists.

Others were wary of coming near me since I always bordered the line of feral and tame, but she didn’t hesitate to reach out and take my hand just as Bonnie had done in the past. More frail, at least in appearance, than any female I’d ever met, her bones felt thin and hollow like a bird’s wing, covered in skin made velvet soft with age. Exceptionally long grey hair, with a few locks here and there hint of what once may have been a vibrant red, was woven into a thick braid that swung between her shoulders and brushed the back of her thighs, bound by a strip of leather and crystal beads that clicked together with her every breath. A sparse few feathers were randomly interwoven, the downy tufts of baby ravens and longer, sleeker jays. Her features remained calm, eyes depthless as the ocean and just as dark.

“Welcome home, Jackson.”

This was not my home and I almost told her as much, the words sticking in my throat never to be voiced aloud. She was the oldest of our pack and deserved my respect. I may be a cocky son-of-a-bitch with a nasty mouth and an attitude fit to rival any murdering convicts, but I knew when to shut up and be respectful. I didn’t contradict her words as Sera led the way into her cottage.

It was tidy, sparse and quant, with very few possessions. Everything was hand-made and old, much older than any thing I had ever owned. A fire burned merrily in a river-stone fire place across the room, heating the atmosphere to a comfortable degree, where as outside the slightest chill heralded the coming winter. There was a chest just inside the doorway that groaned in protest as she lifted the lid, carefully choosing a few items and handing them to me.

Clothes, each of them warm and well broken-in, exactly my size. Since wolves could shift with clothes on we normally kept a pair or two in common locations; it surprised me that she would have them as well, considering how rare it was for anyone to come this way. And for to have my exact size, and the style I normally wore? It was surreal, weird as all hell.

I hadn’t run away from anything in a long time, but I wanted to just then. More than that, I wanted Rhyce. Though I’d never admit it aloud in a million years, he was my anchor, my safety net. Most children wish for their parents – I wished only for him.
When I had sufficiently dressed, she guided me over to a suede couch heavily layered with multiple knitted blankets of varying colors. She sat at my side and lay a hand on my thigh, the warmth of her palm bleeding through the cotton-jean material. Eyes filled with shadow, blue and violet and black like the reflection of a raven’s wing, cut through to my soul.

She said nothing. We sat in silence for an eternity, bound only by a tangible touch and an invisible web of power. I could feel her, in the flesh, in the air, in my very bones. She breathed as I breathed, her heart beat as mine, her spirit wrapped so completely around mine it was a wonder they had ever been separate at all. I lost who I was, who I’ve always been, and became nothing but an extension of her, and thus an extension of the pack.

I had never known I was missing anything, until I felt that part of my psyche open beneath the gentle probing of her mind. Just as suddenly as I had been empty, I became complete. I felt the alpha, felt the heart and presence of the pack resonating within me, and knew that she had been correct; I had come home.

Whether it was in my heart or in my head, it’s hard to tell. Maybe both, maybe neither. All I know is that it was there, where they had only been an unknown void before. It was like finding my mate all over again – turning around and realizing at last that something within you had been missing all along and you’d never had a clue. But once found, to lose it would be a devastation quite like dying.

“You will live twice … and yet you shall be born only once.” I blinked as she at last released my thigh. Her eyes were staring into mine and yet they had grown vague, unfocused, as if she saw events I’d never hope to see. Visions? Was she some sort of weird shaman? “Don’t be frightened of the crow. You will walk a path with three destinations – all will be different at the end, all will lead you where you need to be. Beware the angel with the broken wings.” Her fingers ghosted over my cheek before she smiled, gaze turning soft as awareness returned. “He will wait for you …” she whispered. “Always, he will wait for you.”

There was nothing I could say. None of her words made any sense, were barely more than fragmented thoughts in a jumble of phrases told by a werewolf fortune-teller possibly older than time memorable. She didn’t seem to notice my gaping confusion and kindly patted my hand, rising as she did so to retrieve two cups of hot tea that had been sitting on the counter. The rest of the time was passed in congenial talk as she asked questions, growing familiar with me, my family, and my life. I held nothing back – could, in truth, do nothing but answer with complete honesty. Things I had never told another soul spilled from my lips and instead of feeling horrified I knew peace. It was like spilling your heart to God – nothing could ever compare. No matter what comes, I shall never forget that morning, when a foreign woman touched my heart.

There was no way I could have known that two hours later that heart would beat it’s last.