| |
HE STOOD ON THE SIDEWALK across from the school watching Raven slip into the car with that boy. A cold fury shook his form and he turned, walking to the house and his shop out back.
He never should have believed that little whore. She was supposed to cut things off with that kid.
He crossed the lawn, digging the keys out of his pocket and unlocked his studio. When he stepped through, his gaze landed on his latest collection, the last mold empty and waiting for the right inspiration.
He dropped his eyes to the filthy mattress in the corner, and the droplets of blood dried on the wall from where he carved his incantation into her skin, branding her in ink like so many tramp-stamps you see these days.
The lesson he’d teach her today would last for the rest of her life and he changed into his wet suit, followed by fatigues, clipped his knife to his belt and headed to the truck with the sports kayak in back. He drove to one of his usual launch sites and slipped the boat into the water.
He glared at the sky, cursing under his breath, but he couldn’t wait until dark, not with her in that house. He kept close to the rocky shore, in the shadows as much as he could, and when he approached the bluff, he headed directly toward the ladder, keeping his black kayak as close to the rocks as possible.
The light left him uncomfortable and exposed and he swore her lesson would include watching him die. When he cleared the big rock, his eyebrows rose at the small dock and the secluded tide pool. Envy snaked its way under his skin and he tied the kayak off, climbing silently onto the pier.
* * * *
TOM OPENED THE GARAGE door, letting both Raven and Jennifer into the house before he stepped inside.
“Raven needs a place to stay,” he signed once he threw his book bag on the table.
“Really,” she said and turned toward Raven. “Is that true?”
Raven removed her glasses and Jennifer gasped. “Oh, my God. Who did this to you?” She crossed the room and inspected the bruise before meeting her gaze.
Tom crossed. “Her stepfather did this,” he signed. “She’s not going home.”
Jennifer inhaled, meeting his gaze and nodded. “Did you want to press charges?” she asked, returning her questioning stare to Raven.
Raven shook her head. “No. All I want is a shower right now,” she said, and tears formed.
“Why don’t you show her where everything is,” she said to Tom and gave Raven’s hand a squeeze. “You can stay as long as you’d like.”
“Thank you,” Tom signed, and Jennifer nodded, her expression mixed with understanding and an underlying anger at the injustice. He knew under her calm waters raged a wild mother bear, and this type of thing always brought it to the surface.
Jennifer glanced at Raven. “What are you, a size three?”
Raven nodded.
“I’ll get you a change of clothes,” she said and followed them upstairs.
Tom opened the guest room door for Raven and she stepped inside. When Jennifer came in with a pair of underwear, sweats and a t-shirt, Raven took them with tears in her eyes.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“The bathroom is over there, and Tom will get you some towels,” she said and gave him a nod before leaving the room. Something about her demeanor struck Tom and he followed her into the hall, stopping her.
“What is it?” he signed.
Jennifer turned, and a tear escaped from her lashes. “She needs some TLC right now. That doesn’t mean sex, it means letting her see your heart. Understand?” She wiped the tears away.
“You saw,” he said and stepped away.
“Not in the way you’re thinking. I’ve seen that haunted look before. In the mirror.” She pressed her lips together, the pain painted in her eyes cut him to the core. “That’s the only reason I’m going to let you stay up here with her while I go call the police. That bastard belongs behind bars.”
He watched her climb down the stairs and turned back, pulling a couple of towels from the linen closet before stepping into her room. Raven sat on the bed, staring at the floor and he set the towels down, slipping her glasses out of her fingers and set them on the table.
No words were spoken, and he ran the back of his knuckles down her cheek, studying her for a moment before he reached for the hem of her shirt. She reacted, her eyes widening and her hands grasping and holding it in place.
“I’ oay,” he whispered and took a step back, so she could see his hands. He pointed toward the bathroom and signed, “Bath or shower?”
Her gaze jumped to the bathroom and back. “Shower,” she whispered.
He put his finger up and headed into the bathroom, turning on the shower for her so the water would be warm when she was ready and then he stepped into the bedroom. “Do you want me to stay or go?” he signed.
She looked like a deer in the headlights under the question posed by his hands and he took that as a go and stepped toward the door.
“No,” she said, meeting his gaze. Her hands cradled her elbows and she whispered, “Stay.”
He nodded and came to her side, leaning against the bed with her.
Her hands shook as she reached for the hem of her shirt and she bit down on her lip, not in the sexy way she had the day before, but in the way desperate people do when cornered.
“Do you want me to help?”
She tried to smile, and he took the initiative, stepping in front of her and taking her arms, raising them so he could strip the shirt. She hesitated halfway, her eyes filled with pain and doubt and then she closed them, allowing him to strip the fabric off her.
He stared at her torso and dropped the shirt. Shock brought on a wave of dizziness and his legs wobbled underneath him. Her creamy unblemished skin had been carved into a crude pentagram. He bent to touch the raw carving and pulled his hand away dropping to his knees in front of her.
He brought his gaze to hers knowing every bit of the horror he felt was painted in his features.
Raven turned to grab the towels and his eyes widened at the two words carved into her back and he stumbled to his feet, taking a step away, his hand flying to cover the gasp.
Her gaze locked on the mirror across the room at the scrawling letters on her back.
Windwalker’s Whore.
Her head whipped around toward Tom, and her face paled. “Oh, my God,” she whispered.
A crash downstairs rocked the house and Raven’s horror slammed into his mind.
“Where is she?” The growl from the family room seeped through the floorboards and Tom’s eyes widened. Her stepfather wasn’t mocking him, he was laying claim to what he believed was his property.
Raven’s stepfather was the Windwalker and Jennifer was downstairs.
“Stay,” he signed and spun on his heels, sprinting downstairs in time to see the blade cut through Jennifer’s arm as she parried, blocking what should have been a kill strike.
“Run,” she screamed at him and blocked another swing.
Raven’s stepfather was a hulk of a man, bigger than he expected, and his face was lined with scars, ruining what once could have been handsome, he caught Tom’s gaze and sent a feral smile in his direction. “You’re next,” he said and refocused on Jennifer.
“Get out of here, Tom!” Jennifer ordered meeting his gaze for a second and her eyes widened, her gaze dropping to the knife embedded in her chest before they rolled back in her head.
“Oo!” Tom bellowed, caught between the need to defend Jennifer and her order to get Raven to safety. The look on Raven’s stepfather’s face clinched it and Tom turned, bolting up the stairs.
Footfalls fell in step behind him and instead of leading him into the guest room; he turned into his bedroom, sending out an SOS that he prayed would traverse the miles between York and Washington D.C.
The exodus of wings followed and if his SOS didn’t make it there, his father would. Tom spun, facing the door as the Windwalker appeared in the doorway, leading with the dripping knife, and a pang of guilt bit at his stomach. He had left Jennifer in the hands of this madman.
“Where is my whore?” he growled.
A flash of red appeared behind him and Raven jumped on his back, digging her nails into his flesh with a scream that shattered the heavy silence. Her stepfather jerked backward, smashing her head against the doorjamb and she crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
“Bastard,” Tom said his voice clear and concise and he knew they were no longer alone. He reached for the snow globe and pitched it at her stepfather.
He ducked, and the globe shattered on the wall opposite his door.
“I’m going to preserve that pretty face of yours just for her, so she has a reminder of what happens when she decides to rebel.”
Tom’s gaze flicked to Tanya’s ghost and he winced at the banshee scream as she launched herself at the Windwalker. She passed right through him, falling to the ground.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the flash of metal and parried. The knife bit into his flesh and instead of dancing away, he stepped in and sent his fist crashing into the middle of the bastard’s chest.
The Windwalker stumbled back but the knife cross-slashed, tearing into Tom’s chest and Tom let out a yell and spun away. He kept fighting even with his blood splattering slash after slash. Panic started to embed itself in his head, making him sluggish.
The only thing that kept him moving and defending against the Windwalker’s death blows was Raven, and the thought of what this bastard would do to her if he fell.