Renegade (25 page)

But the hound will remember. I’ll see what he sees.

“No,” he spoke out loud, his voice flat.

“Why not?” I whispered.

“Because if I really am killing people that isn’t an image of me I want burned in your brain.”

“You weren’t killing people, Sam.”

“We don’t know that.”

“We will if you let me do this.”

He sighed.

“You really believe I’m not the one killing those people?”

I lifted my head and folded my arm over his chest, resting my chin on my arm, and looked at him through the dark. “I really don’t believe it’s you.”

He reached up and combed his hands through my hair. Finally he spoke, but it was into my mind.
Okay.

I smiled.
It’s going to be just fine. You’ll see.

He didn’t look convinced, but that was okay because I was convinced enough for both of us. I was already touching him, my full body almost in contact with his. All I had to do was ask him a question, concentrate, and be pulled into his mind, into his memories.

Before he could change his mind, I did it. I asked him what he does when he shifts in the middle of the night. Then I closed my eyes and waited to be shown the answer.

*     *     *

I couldn’t see anything—Sam couldn’t see anything, but I knew he was running. He was moving so fast I could feel the wind pulling at the dense fur covering his body.

What a rush.
Is this what it felt like to be in his other form? I really wished I could see what he was seeing.

I tried to push aside the feeling of exhilaration and freedom of the run and really focus on Sam and what he was thinking, feeling, and seeing. I needed to completely slip into his memory and not cloud it with my own thoughts.

He needed this.

We both did.

The ground didn’t feel hard underfoot like it did when I ran. It felt as though I was running on a mattress, on a padded surface. My body didn’t seem to jolt as much with every pounding step. Instead, my feet seemed to absorb the steps I took and because of that I was able to go over the ground in leaps and bounds. My body felt strangely unhinged and loose. There was more freedom of movement as an animal; my body more readily moved with precision.

Hunt.

Attack.

Destroy.

Those were the thoughts that began to pound through my mind—
Sam’s
mind. As I became more accustomed to this body I was able to focus more on what was going on inside his head.

He blinked and it seemed that whatever veil had been keeping me from seeing what he did was lifted. It was dark and we were somewhere near the farm. Sam recognized the scent of his surroundings. His run slowed to a jog and he started looking, searching for something he seemed to sense.

Why can’t I tell what that is?

It was as if his brain didn’t function that way. It didn’t focus on what he thought he was seeking out. He only
felt
there was something wrong, something that needed him here. He acted purely on instinct as he made his way through the carpet of fallen leaves, not making any rustling sounds or stumbling over any of the uneven ground.

The forest was so still in the afterhours of the day that I had no idea what he could possibly think was out here.

He sensed something and jerked up his head. I could feel his ears jerk upward so he could hear better. I heard it too…

It was a faint sound, the sound of air moving, of someone approaching. But it wasn’t a someone; it was a something.

A deep snarl ripped out of Sam’s throat and all the muscles in his body bunched and squeezed as he leapt up into the air. A sharp pain stung his back and he let out a growl, twisting away from the pain and dropping back down onto the ground. He landed on all fours and then burst forward with an intense amount of motion as he began to attack whatever was there.

I couldn’t see what it was.

I could see nothing at all.

It was as if he were blind and only had use of the other four senses.

It was entirely frustrating.

It was also terrifying.

The sounds that ripped from his throat were sounds I’d only heard on TV shows that I thought were made up.

The fragments of thoughts he did have were only of destruction.

I felt the gnash of teeth against bone. I felt soft flesh give way to meat, and I felt the aggressive way he brought down his opponent. There was no hint of remorse here, no thought of backing down… To the hellhound side of Sam, it was kill or be killed.

And then all fell quiet.

All I could hear was the thumping of his heart against ribs. His limbs were tired, but they were still strong and I thought maybe he would shift then, that everything would switch over and I would see Sam lying on the ground covered in blood. But that didn’t happen.

The hound didn’t seem to be finished hunting.

This time he didn’t run.

He walked. I could feel something in his mouth. He was pulling something along. I prayed it wasn’t a body.

I was reminded of the time when I still cheered and the girls woke me up in the middle of the night and tied a blindfold over my eyes. They led me to a car and drove me across town where we then walked outside down toward the lake. It was disorienting then because I was walking, taking twists and turns, hearing sounds and feeling sensations, but I had no way of knowing if what I was experiencing was true.

I had to trust my friends to guide me.

What about this hellhound?

Did I trust it to guide me?

Now that the fight was over, he seemed to be less intent on the hunt. He didn’t seem to want to hurt everything that stepped into his path. I counted this as a good sign. As proof that Sam wasn’t doing the things he thought.

Sam stopped walking. He still had his jaws clamped hard around something and he tipped his nose up and sniffed the air. The sound of water was in the background and then he started moving forward. His front paws sank into wet mud and water lapped around them.

Panic seized me.

I didn’t like water.

But Sam did.

He felt no fear at all about wading farther out into the depths. I couldn’t see where he was. I couldn’t see the kind of water he waded into. It could be dark. It could be deep. It could be deadly.

And then he pushed himself away from the edge and water wrapped itself around him. It saturated the fur covering is body and added weight to his already bulky frame.

He still didn’t panic, even towing whatever it was he’d carried through the forest.

And then he dove beneath the water’s surface.

I was going to drown.

I couldn’t breathe…

Someone grabbed ahold of me and yanked. I fought against them.

Sam!

“Heven!” An urgent whisper cut through my panic and I gasped, opening my eyes and seeing him inches from my face.

“Sam.”

“What the hell happened?”

I shook my head. He gripped my arms tighter, giving me a little shake.

“Nothing. I—you went into the water…”

A low curse cut through the space between us and he pulled me closer, whispering apologizes into my ear. “We never should’ve done that.”

I pulled back to look at him again. “It feels a lot different to be in an animal’s form.”

He nodded. “Did it scare you?”

I shook my head. “It was just intense.”

His face grew bleak. “What did you see?”

“Nothing. I couldn’t see anything.”

This seemed to surprise him. “Nothing?”

“For a few minutes I saw the woods. But then whatever came… after that it was all dark.”

“What came?” he demanded, his fists bunching the sheets between us.

“I couldn’t see that either. But you—the hellhound—wanted to kill it. It’s all you could think about.”

He looked horrified. “Did I?”

“I think so.”

“And you felt it all,” he murmured to himself as he withdrew from me just a little.

I pushed myself closer. “I wasn’t scared. Once it was dead, your mind seemed to be more relaxed.”

“The hellhound in me isn’t vicious. Whenever I shift, I don’t always want to kill,” he explained. I wondered if he worried I would think less of him now.

“I know that,” I said, bringing my hand up to his cheek. Even still, I was in awe at how he balanced and controlled that part of him. I could see how it could easily overcome him.

“What about the water?”

“I think you were, uh…”

“Dumping the body?” He finished for me.

“We don’t know it was a body.”

“It was something the hound wanted dead. It’s not a far leap.”

“I didn’t hear any yelling or calling out. There were no signs of a human there.”

“Is that all you saw?”

I nodded. “I’m sorry it wasn’t more.”

“It’s not your fault, babe.”

I still wished I could have done more. I pulled him back down beneath the covers with me and he stared up at the ceiling. “Stay in here, just for tonight.”

He turned his head to look at me.

“I’ll watch over you. You can sleep. If you try to get up, I’ll wake you.”