Lost Soul (DarkWorld: SkinWalker Book 2) (34 page)

"Leave him, Kai," said Greer from behind me, her voice calm, almost serene. I didn't loosen my grip although I did glance around to get a look at her. She stood to my left, still dressed in her jeans and jacket from the warehouse, the multitude of greys hiding the bloodstained remnants of her recent death.

Her throat showed no sign of her mortal wound. In fact, she seemed almost alive, if a little insubstantial. Not that I hadn't expected that.

"Why should I let the bastard go? He'd kill me if he had a chance. Almost did in fact." I glared at him, still regretting not killing him before.

"He didn't know who you were then."

"Greer, that makes no sense. He's a demon, for Ailuros' sake. The demon overlord of the Greylands. Why would he care who I was?" For a moment I stared at her. Then I flicked the red, winged demon a dirty look. To be honest I didn't give a damn what his motives were. My purpose here was to talk to Greer before she crossed over. "Look, Greer. I really don't care about Yanuk. I came to speak to you."

Greer walked toward me, but she looked over at Yanuk. "You see? This is precisely the reason I can no longer help you."

I frowned, confused, already releasing the demon who rubbed his throat gingerly but remained where he was. Seemed he had some sense after all.

"Greer?" I called her name but it was as if I wasn't there. She stood in front of me, a grey specter, wavering in the air, and turned her head to speak to Yanuk.

"The plans we had would have worked perfectly had I been alive—preying on Walker souls, demons living on Walker strength. And maybe you're right. Our plans would work just as perfectly now that I am dead. But you see, things are different now. I see things so differently now . . . things can never be the same."

"What do you mean, Greer? Why does it have to change?" He came away from the wall and would have taken a step toward her, but I turned my head and gave him a glare that said 'make one fucking move and you are dead'. He took a step back and resumed position against the wall.

Greer was still looking at him as she spoke. "Because what we want to do isn't right. I can see now how terribly wrong it is. And I wonder how I could've possibly considered doing such a thing. I think something happens when you die. Like a blindfold being removed. All anger and envy and negativity is removed, and you can see clearly for the first time. I can see now, all the things I've done in the past, all the times I made decisions thinking others were against me, when in truth it was me who was my own enemy." Then she turned to me, her face filled with sadness. "So many times I hated you. Hated how hard you worked, and yet you were always true to yourself. You were a true Alpha and I was always jealous of you. Probably why I aligned myself with all the wrong people, Niko, Brand, Yanuk—for all the wrong reasons. So many times I pushed you away and yet you still came to help me, to save me. I didn't deserve you. I don't deserve you." Tears glistened in Greer's eyes and I felt a tightening in my chest.

A part of me felt guilty to think I'd often done what I'd done out of duty to my parents and not out of love for my sister.

"This isn't necessary, Greer. I only came to make sure you were going to be okay. That you weren't going to end up being Yanuk's pawn for all eternity." I gave the demon another dirty glance.

"No. I was never his pawn." Greer smiled, and her face seemed to glow a little. "Oh, and can you give Mom a message for me?" Those words made me want to burst into tears, but I swallowed them and nodded. "Tell her that I'm sorry I didn't stay and give her a chance to explain. I know she wanted to, but I was so angry."

"If you want, I can tell you what she would have said," I offered.

Greer nodded. "I'd like that." I gave her a quick version of the events that led Mom and Dad to part ways and repeated Mom's apologies to me in Wrythiin, hoping they would give Greer the solace they gave me. From her expression, it seemed to have done her some good.

"You know, a lot of what you were going through may not have been entirely your own fault," I said, recalling my conversation with Grams regarding the possible Pariah gene affecting the development of the Walker's brain.

"How so?" Greer frowned, although the glow on her face hadn't faded.

"Grams and I were talking and we think the Pariah gene may also affect a person's mind as well as their body. The way it affected Niko." I didn't want to say more in case I offended her, but it seemed Greer was immune to offence. She nodded slowly as if the possibility made a lot of sense to her.

"That would explain a lot." She looked up at me, an almost pleading expression on her face. "Kai, you must get them to research that. If it's true, then that research could help so many Pariah Walkers work through what they are feeling right now. It's terrible what we have to go through. All those horrible emotions. Feeling broken, not feeling whole, not belonging. Not being able to change is the worst of all. If you could do something to help, anything at all . . ." Her voice faded away and the glow in her face brightened.

She looked down at her hands and stared at them for a moment. My stomach clenched and I knew her time had come. The light was calling her and she had to go.

Greer looked up at me, her expression still waiting for my answer. I nodded. "Yes. I will. I promise."

"Thank you, Kai." She smiled and gave me a small wave.

She began to glow so brightly I had to shade my eyes against the pain of the glare.

I blinked and she was gone.

"No!" Yanuk yelled and came rushing at the bare spot that had held Greer only seconds ago.

***

I wiped the curved blade of my demon-sword and returned it to its sheath at my back, then shut the door of my Greylands apartment.

Time to go home.

---THE END---

***

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Last Chance – Book 3 in the DarkWorld Series

Read an Excerpt of LAST CHANCE

A Walker funeral isn’t that different from any other funeral. Flowers, coffins, mourners. No difference except for species and maybe religious preference. Most Walkers regard the goddess Ailuros, Cat god of the Greek pantheon, as their deity of choice. Worship isn’t in any way similar to most other world religions. Ailuros just is. There are no temples. Some argue that the lack of temples are mainly due to the existence of constant persecution through the ages. Temples would have been an open invitation to the religious zealots.

I often wonder how different life would be if humans knew we existed. What would they think if their son or daughter brought home a werewolf or a Fae for dinner? Cross-species reproduction? Shook my head and swallowed a laugh as I walked, past faces, some familiar many not, to the front of the rows of foldout chairs. My fathers lawn, and the weather had cooperated well enough. The ground was firm, the grass a bright cheery green. The sun streamed down, not so warm that we’d have to shed our coats. Seems mother nature had pulled out all the stops for Greer’s farewell.

I’d already said my goodbye to my sister. In a way I’d never expected to.

How many people get the opportunity to talk to the dead?

I recalled Greer’s last words.

“So many times I pushed you away and yet you still came to help me. I didn’t deserve you. I don’t deserve you… Thank you, Kai.”

I recalled the expression on her face, the sincerity in her eyes, and even the love. Something I’d never thought I’d ever see in my sister. Tears blurred my vision as I sat on the first seat I passed. I wished we’d had more time, I wished we’d been able to be close. But fate didn’t want it that way. I sighed and felt the lead weight in my stomach settle deeper into place.

I could be happy that Greer and I had made our peace but the bugger, more awful truth hung over me light and a dark, accusing cloud. I’d failed my mother. I’d failed to save her daughter and I didn’t think she’d forgive me. I didn’t think I deserved forgiving. I’d failed her. Failed them both.

Murmuring from the back of the seated crowd drew my thoughts away from self-pity. I shifted in my seat and glanced backward. My father Corin, brother Iain and four other men I didn’t recognize walked steadily along the aisle bearing the weight of Greer's coffin between them. Made of molded concrete, shaped to fit the curves of Greer's figure, the coffin was finished with exquisitely fine details. The sculptor had paid close attention to Greer’s features, replicating them so closely that I would have sworn that Greer herself lay there. The rest of her body was carved wearing a peplos, a ancient toga like garment draped elegantly around her body in the style of the ancient Greek goddesses. I knew the within the carved casket Greer was dressed in a similar fashion. Her body had been bathed then perfumed oils were rubbed into her skin. Her long hair, washed, brushed and draped across her shoulders and allowed to fall off her body at the waist. Her hands had been positions at her chest, her fingers entwined around the feet of a stone statue of Ailuros, The statue stood straight, its feminine curves enhanced by the faille of the fabric of her simple peplos. With the head of a panther the statue hearkened back to the days before Ailuros had evolved into the external manifest ion of a cat, the days when the goddess bore the head of a lioness. Today each walker tribe saw Ailuros with a head that signified their own species. Only the cats of course. Wolf walkers bowed to the feet of Anubis.

With a start I recognized Byron Teague, the Wolf Alpha, and Justin Lake the Cougar Alpha behind my brother and father. Again I was reminded that attendance at the funeral would be more a show of support of those grieving her death rather than an actually payment of respect to Greer herself. The Lynx and Jaguar Alphas brought up the rear of the pallbearers. I turned and faced the stone bier; a simple table constructed from white marble, and surrounded with vases of white roses.

From somewhere around me a lone violin sang sad notes. A song I didn’t recognize but which brought tears to my eyes anyway. I swallowed the lump in my throat and clinked away the moisture. A tap on my should pulled my attending from the pallbearers who were setting the casket onto the bier. Behind me sat Lily, Logan, Saleem and Tara. Logan’s hand felt warm and comforting on my shoulder and I held tightly onto it.

Tara leaned forward. “Mother couldn’t make it but she does send her apologies and her condolences,” she whispered in my ear.

I nodded. “Thanks,” was all I could say. I was overwhelmed by their support. Even more so when I caught a glimpse of Storm and Chief Murdoch sitting in the back row. Proof that I managed to gather my own little band of friends over the last few years. The one person I didn’t see was Clancy. Clancy, my best friend, taken from me by the same Walker who’d killed Greer.

The chair beside me squawked and I twisted around as Grams sat down. I took her hands and she squeezed them back.

At least today we supported each other in our grief. I felt a stab of guilt. When my uncle Niko had died we’d had no body to bury. They’d had a small memorial service but with everything that had happened, and everything Niko had done I couldn't bring myself to attend. Grams and everyone else had understood. I was weak from the Wraith sword poison, grieving for Clancy, terrified for Mom and Anjelo and Greer, all sucked into Niko’s crazy schemes.

With the casket in place, the pallbearers dispersed and my father and brother came to sit beside us.

The light glinted off the carved face of the coffin as a woman glided toward toward a lectern which stood beside the bier, covered in white fabric and decorated with a swag of white roses and baby’s breath. Etina was our equivalent to a pastor or a priest. The priestesses of Temple of Ailuros presided over deaths and births and marriages within the walker communities. Etina came to a graceful stop behind the flowers and smiled at the gathering.

I listened with half an ear as she spoke a little about Greer, an extolling of virtues that steered clear from her leaving home without so much as a goodbye, from her involvement with Niko and Brand, and from any references to how she finally met her end. I swallowed a sob. Everywhere I looked I saw the image of my mothers face, superimposed on on ever one, saw the look of disappointment in her eyes. A look I would need to face soon. My heart thudded as Etina motioned for my father to come forward to speak.