Kiss Me, Curse Me - By Kate Shay Page 0,40

their loot and set forth, back across the pass.

The memories cascaded away as Roy noticed the little sleep shelter tucked away as the trees thickened. The fire had only been out an hour or so; he made sure not to disturb anything. There was just a simple blanket, hand-woven, and space for one sleeper. He sat there in the spot where he figured Coreen had just been, looking for any other clues for guidance. The tracks unfortunately led out in many directions. This was a hub of some kind for the one who built it. He picked the route that led farther into the woods as the odd footprint he found looked deeper, as if it carried weight on the step.

“Ah, Ahanu, you took her” Roy said out loud to the tall pine trees. “I’ll find you both yet.”

***

In the exact center of the room lay a pale Coreen. She remained motionless there on that stone table, so cool to the touch—just like the hard surface she lay upon. Ahanu examined her petite features, her little nose and high cheekbones. Her lips were a soft pink, a little fuller than his mother’s. Her skin was so perfect, just a thin smile line coming from each corner of her closed lids, her light tan not doing her any justice. Her breath escaped her as slowly as his sister’s had that dark, terrible day many months ago.

How many hours had he spent with his dear Coreen? Not enough. He took hold of her hand knowing what he had to do. This was love, and there was nothing that was going to take her away. No man could take her from this earth, no being, no wolf, for that matter. This earth he hadn’t known long, but she was it for him, and he knew he’d spend the rest of his days with this girl. He watched his father pour the now-warm liquid into the same snake-skull cup Ahanu had drunk from the day before. The boy set the long, blessed blade on the stone table next to his girl, keeping it near to his belly.

“Lift her head for me.”

Ahanu complied, holding her like a doll.

“Tilt her head back just a little; open her up so this can slip down.” The liquid was poured, and Kanti rubbed her neck to stimulate her swallow reflex. “That’s it, that’s it. There, there, swallow, swallow. Little bird, swallow.”

Coreen swallowed. They lay her flat again, making sure not to drop her dead-weight cranium, each taking their stance at her side, each watching the other with golden eyes in the fire-lit room.

“Now what?” Ahanu asked, taking hold of her hand. The anticipation in his stomach was almost unbearable at the thought that she could wake up, that he could talk with her, have her just make eye contact—something, anything.

“We wait. She’s in her sick sleep now. They call it a coma, but it is not a coma. It is the transition from this world to the next. It is not a dream. It is the pathway; it is real. In dreams, we access a part of it; in sick sleep, you are there. She can move in between, but she will not remember anything that happened there. As the tonic takes effect, she’ll move into dream state, the state in which you embraced the wolf. She will remember. He knows to stay away till we proceed, but he may visit her there. He’s like that sometimes. They have met before.”

“I know. I saw him in the woods.” Ahanu glanced down at the knife.

“She was ready then, but you saved her . . . interrupted.”

Saved her . . . saved her . . . ? Red, Ahanu saw red as his hate swelled. He closed his red, glowing eyes to hide them, but it was too late. Kanti knew his mind. Ahanu reached for the knife and swung it hard. But, his father was gone.

Searching the room, he found no sight of the Shaman. Kanti was too quick, too advanced in his powers. A laugh echoed around him. It wasn’t cruel, it was in pity almost, like Ahanu had picked a grander target and he was but a mere mouse scattering about with a tail too ready for the lopping.

“You can’t have her,” said Ahanu, knife up, circling his Coreen in protection.

“Did you think I didn’t know what you were up to, my son? Did you think you could hide from me? I know your thoughts. The wolf reveals