Night Terrors (Sarah Beauhall Book 4) (30 page)

“Yeah, I remember.”

“But she told them that you’d moved away years ago and that no one had seen you since. They didn’t like the answer, said some harsh things, but went away. Word of that got back to da and he started spinning out of control all over again.”

I could see him, angry and scared—desperate to take action. What the hell was he running from? The guys sounded like some of Justin’s cronies. I distinctly remembered killing two assholes that fit those descriptions. They’d tried to sacrifice Frick and Frack in their mad, necromantic schemes.

But they had no ties to me before I’d killed the dragon, Jean-Paul Duchamp. Da surely hadn’t been running from that bunch of crazies. We’d been running far too long to be tangled up with them. Besides, I don’t think da would’ve let us settle in Crescent Ridge if this were that close to the enemy.

No, he was running from something else. The jerks just happened to trigger his fears.

“So, about your hair?”

She ran her hand through it, pushing the bangs back over her head. “I was at school one day after we’d had a fight—”

She didn’t have to say with whom. It was understood.

“—and my friend Bonnie brought the supplies from home. We ditched algebra that afternoon and went to the girls bathroom on the second floor, you know the one?”

I’d gone to the same school, only a bunch of years earlier. “Near the language arts rooms?”

She nodded. “LeAnn watched the door while Bonnie cut my hair. She’d read about how to do it specifically on the Internet. First she braided it into several braids, then she cut it. We were sending it off to Locks of Love. She took eighteen inches.”

I smiled at her, nodding. “Impressive.”

“Then she brought out the dye. We sat there talking while the dye set in. Bonnie and I have been friends for a few years.” She paused, thinking. “She used to call us holy rollers, but only that first year we were in Tae Kwon Do together. Once we got to know one another, we became friends. Seems that most people are quick to judge.”

“Got that right,” I agreed. “Anything different is bad. Either beat it down, make fun of it, or cut it out of your life.”

She looked up at me quick. I shook my head. “Not something I believe, but I’ve seen it enough times to know it exists.”

She looked relieved. “Da has been mellowing, you know?”

Of course, I had no idea, but I let her continue.

“Ma convinced him to let me play soccer after I’d been so good at Tae Kwon Do. I’d earned it. Didn’t rock the boat too much, not like you.”

Too, true. From the time I was twelve, I fought against his worldview with every waking breath.

“Then ma and me convinced him that going over to the public high school would be good for me, how I could take some real science classes and languages and stuff.”

That must’ve been a tough battle.

“But last spring things went sideways. I got in trouble for beating up a kid.”

Woah … “Really?”

“It was Matt Abernathy. Prick.”

She blushed at that.

“What did you do to him?”

She blushed even deeper. “Punched him in the throat.”

I coughed. Geez. “You could’ve killed him.”

She looked over at me with a fierce look in her eyes. “He was way out of line,” she said, the anger fresh in her voice. “Grabbed me, kissed me. I pushed him away, but he called me a whore because of my hair and said he’d show me how men treated whores.”

My stomach clenched. The Abernathy’s were church people. Mom said Megan had been having trouble with them.

“He’s two years older than me,” she continued. “Big, strong. He was hurting me, had his big hands around my right arm, squeezing real tight, and he grabbed my breasts.” She paused, suddenly out of breath. I knew that feeling, the fight or flight. I was proud that she fought.

“He was laughing, and there were a couple other boys there, watching the doorway to make sure no one interfered.” There was a faraway look in her face then. “I think he’d have really hurt me, laughing about my purple hair and how I deserved what I was getting.”

“Bastard!” I growled.

“For a minute, I thought about letting him, you know. Just giving in and letting him do whatever he wanted. Maybe I did deserve it—”

“Megan, no.” I grabbed her shoulder, but she shrugged and went on.

“—but I thought of you, Sarah. Thought, now what would Sarah do in this situation. He’d ripped my blouse and was trying to get my skirt up around my waist when I just made my choice. I figured it was kill him, or he’d beat me unconscious. So I did the one thing I could think of.”

“Good for you.” I was breathing harder now, my heart racing. Jesus, I hated men like that. What the hell was wrong with people? I was so sick of big folk preying on the smaller ones.

“What happened then?”

She turned to look at me, a look of fierce determination on her face. “Short knuckle strike to the throat.”

There was a look of satisfaction on her face at those words. She’d bested a bully.

“His buddies were quite surprised. Matt stumbled back clutching his throat and fell down onto his knees.”

“Good for you.”

“Then I round-house kicked him in the head.”

I almost laughed. It wasn’t funny, but I imagine he did
not
see that coming.

“I started screaming at the top of my lungs and the other two bolted, cowards.” She had her hands clenched into fists, her whole body rigid. “I would have totally kicked their asses.”

She trailed off, but I caught the mumbled word, “… pansies”.

I grabbed her and pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry,” I said.

She remained tense for another few seconds, then melted into my arms.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

She pushed back, looking into my face. “I can take care of myself,” she said, suddenly cold. “I don’t need you to protect me.”

Ice pick meet heart. I smiled despite the pain and nodded. “Apparently not. You’ve become quite the warrior.”

The anger that had flashed onto her face fell aside and she quirked up one corner of her mouth. “Yeah, well. He was a jerk.”

“Was he really hurt?”

“Just his pride,” she said. “School expelled him, and he got community service for aggravated assault.”

“What did you get?” I asked, half afraid.

She shrugged. “Grounded for a week and a lot of thanks from girls at school who never used to give me the time of day.”

No telling how many girls the jerk had terrorized, or worse.

“He’s lucky I didn’t kill him,” she said, watching her hands. “Lucky for me, too. I don’t think I could live with myself if I’d killed him.”

I didn’t say anything to that, just sat there for another twenty minutes, holding hands and talking nonsense. I didn’t want to think about who I’d killed.

“Speaking of warrior,” Megan said, pointing to my bike. “Is that a sword?”

I looked over at the Ducati to where Gram was nestled along the side. “Oh, yeah,” I said, grinning.

“Can I see it?”

I shrugged and got to my feet and walked over to the bike. “Sure.” I flipped over the locks and pulled the scabbard and blade away, walked back over and sat down by Megan, holding the scabbard and blade to her.

“Careful,” I said. “She’s sharp.”

Megan grabbed the handle and slid the blade half way out of the sheath. Far enough to see the first couple of runes along the fuller. “Wow,” she said, looking up at me. “This is the real thing. Not for show?”

“Definitely not for show,” I said, smiling at her. “She’s the real deal.”

“Why do you keep calling her she? Does she have a name?”

I held out my hands and she handed the sword to me, handle first. I stood, stepping away from her, and drew the blade free.

“She’s Gram,” I said, holding her in a fighting stance. I doubted the name would really mean anything to her.

“Like Fafnir’s bane?” she asked.

I was surprised. “Good, yes. Like Fafnir’s bane. Where did you hear that?”

“Wagner,” she said, grinning. “We listened to a bit of it in school, so I read up a bunch. Dragons and gods and lightning and such.”

I slipped Gram back into her sheath and sat down again, holding her across my lap. “World is full of crazy things,” I said. “I like to have a little insurance, and I don’t like guns.”

She watched my face, studying me. “You were in that movie last year, right? The one where all those people died?”

“Not in,” I said. “I’m the props manager. I deal with the equipment and such.”

She just nodded, thinking. “Interesting.” I could see wheels turning in her head. Did she suspect something?

We chitchatted about nothing for another ten minutes. Eventually Dennis got out of his car and called over to us. He could get her back to town and drop her off at the Tae Kwon Do school in time for our parents to pick her up, if they hurried. Save a lot of grief.

We said our goodbyes and I watched her get in his car and drive away. She was crying again, but the tears were mixed with her beautiful smile.

Why the hell had I stayed away so long. I’d missed a lot of really good years with that one. I was so proud of her.

She was facing her demons, not like me.

I gripped Gram, the pommel feeling natural in my palm. Some things could not be solved with hammer or sword. Sometimes the only way to win was to give up the fight.

All in all it was a fucking awesome visit. I just wish I could’ve shared it with Katie. Hell, I hadn’t been out to Black Briar for a few days. It just made me feel so damned useless.

Powerless and useless. Not two of my favorite things.

But I’d go back out to Black Briar and visit Katie. It hurt to be that close to her and not be able to talk with her, to see her smile.

But I could be there for her all the same. Talk to her, tell her about stuff. Maybe it would bring her some peace?

Forty-six

I took Jai Li out to Black Briar twice the next week. Nothing had really changed since Katie had gone into that seizure. The fact it happened around the time I was lost in the Sideways was no coincidence. I hated that I didn’t know anyone who was an expert on this. Would have been nice to just sit down and ask questions. It reminded me that we were connected, at least. Maybe me, maybe the diary. But there was something there.

I also started jogging again. I needed the physical release, and my legs and lungs were damn unhappy with me for a while. After my run on Monday, I showered, grabbed some coffee, and took Jai Li to the park for a couple of hours. She was a fiend for the slides and the merry-go-round. I shouldn’t have bothered to get up and jog that morning, I did enough running around in circles keeping that contraption spinning or running under her as I pushed her on the swing. She liked that the most, me pushing her so high she could see above the top of the swing set. Girl loved to be excited.

We had grilled cheese with roasted peppers and tomato soup with Edith once we got back to the farm. Julie was working a small farm out in Redmond and Mary was in town picking up some things from the Grange. She had three mares in foal, and Julie had two. There was much excitement around here on that subject. Jai Li was disappointed that the baby horses wouldn’t be showing up until next March, but that’s how horses were.

I completely missed the breeding part of the whole thing, but I’ve seen it before. There were no stallions on the farm as it was. Mary knew a woman she trusted who had a good breeding stallion. Jai Li missed all that as well. Edith thought she was too young to be watching such things. We agreed of course, but I doubt it would have mattered too much. Edith was a cranky old bird when she wanted to be. Good thing she loved Jai Li or I’d be concerned.

Lunch was pleasant enough, but my mind was elsewhere. I’d decided to head down to see Megan again, and I needed to get on the road down toward Mt. Rainier and Crescent Ridge.

I told Jai Li I was going to visit Megan and she wanted to go. I wasn’t ready for that. If I wasn’t taking Katie, I sure wasn’t ready to take my foster daughter. Too much crazy there. We colored a while and read a few books before I had worked up enough courage to take off. I was taking the bike. Felt like the better option.

I wanted to feel the wind. I had this haunting memory of riding Meyja, the winged horse. And thinking of her made me think of Gunnr, the hot Valkyrie who I’d met a year ago. That was another pleasant, if guilty memory.

Jai Li conked out on the couch listening to Mozart and I boogied. Edith warned me to be careful and I was off. The bike was in the garage with the tractors. I kept her covered when I wasn’t riding her. Kept the dust and such off. I made sure my hammers, energy bars, and water were in the saddlebags and slipped Gram into the rig on the side of the Ducati. I was ready for war. I just hoped it didn’t come down to that. Things were quiet on that front and it made me nervous. I had a feeling like a storm was coming. There was trouble brewing, I just couldn’t place it.

I pulled my helmet on as I straddled the bike. With a quick twist of the key and a likely unnecessary torque of the accelerator, I started the bike, letting it growl between my thighs. That was a moment of heaven.

I kept the throttle low until I got off the farm. Once I had the gate shut behind me and the open country road ahead of me, I opened that mother up and screamed down the asphalt. That was living. I loved how the adrenalin cranked through me as the speedometer spiked past seventy and headed upward past eighty to just above ninety before I backed off.

I stopped in Puyallup at a welding supply shop I’d read about—mom and pop outfit, but well stocked. I spent some time browsing the shelves. I needed to kill some time until the first classes at the Tae Kwon Do school.

Didn’t want to get into town too early. Couldn’t risk running into the folks at the grocery or something. Around three-thirty I got back on the bike. I had three brochures for various pieces of welding gear in my saddlebags and a nice warm “thanks for coming” to speed me on my way. I needed to expand my tool kit. Welding was something I was okay at. Practicing it would be a good idea. These folks were nice enough to give my money to, I’d definitely be back.