Traveller (14 page)

I reached for the bottle Margaret had set down and took another swallow. I handed it to Anselina, and she had a drink, too. I told her about Bowling Green, Daddy, Grandma Sugar, and Pappy George. Several of the other ladies listened in, including Leah who resumed her old seat next to me.

“How did you end up in York?” asked Anselina. She wasn’t wearing her council robes anymore; instead, she had on a bright blue dress that matched her eyes. In the firelight, I saw streaks of red in her graying hair.

“I’m here for a semester on a study abroad trip.”

“I can’t imagine having that sort of freedom.” Leah’s voice was barely a whisper. She stared into the fire, and her hand automatically came to rest on her belly again. “Not that I’d want to leave, mind you, but it would have been nice to travel.”

“It’s too dangerous,” said an older lady sitting next to Tad’s mother. “You’re a Dweller, so it makes no difference if you come or go, but don’t fill their heads with nonsense.”

My cheeks reddened. “You’re right. It’s not the same for me.”

“How did you meet Michael?” asked Anselina. I narrowed my eyes, and she laughed. “This doesn’t have anything to do with the council. I’m just curious.”

Leah patted my hand. “You can trust Anselina. She’s a good old bird, but she’ll drive you mad with her questions.”

The whiskey helped me open up. I let out a sigh remembering the first time I caught of glimpse of Michael in all his grumpy glory. “I saw him at a tea shop. When I tried to talk to him, he ran away from me.”

“What a wanker.” Audrey rolled her eyes.

“He was trying to protect me. I get that now.” I smoothed out the glittering gold fabric of my dress. If I could go back in time, knowing what I did now about the Travellers and the Moktar and everything else, I couldn’t say I’d do anything differently. That was the sad truth.

“Why did you want to speak with him in the first place?” asked Anselina.

I gave her a look. “Well, because he’s hotter than a billy goat’s butt in a pepper patch.”

This made all the women laugh, even Tad’s mother. “It’s true. Michael is a beautiful boy.” Her smile faltered. “My boy was a lovely one, too.”

I bit my lip. “I’m so sorry, Mary.”

She sat only a few feet away from me. I tried to reach out to touch her, but fell off the log and landed in a very inelegant heap on the ground. Everyone burst into laughter. I attempted to get up, but laughed so hard I couldn’t manage it. The high-heeled shoes and short dress didn’t help.

“Well, I guess y’all know what color panties I’m wearing now.” No sense in trying to be dignified. Leah leaned forward to help me up, but almost wet her pants as she strained to pull me off the ground. I fell backwards, leaning on my elbows, with tears streaming down my face. Anselina watched me, a very odd look on her face.

“Emerson, there’s something I have to ask you…”

Her words died on her lips when we heard the metal door swing open behind us, and everyone turned to look. Our laughing, happy group suddenly became as silent as a grave.

“It’s too early. Something’s wrong.” Leah clutched my hand, pulling me to my feet, and my heart sank as the men filed in slowly, one by one. Leah and I stood very still, both of us searching the crowd for the two faces we wished most to see. She let out a little sound like a sob as soon as Ryan walked through the gate, looking very tired and bloody, and rushed to his side. He pulled her into his arms, his face in her neck. When Patrick came through the door, Margaret did the same. He looked a bit surprised at first, but then held her tightly as she clung to him.

I tried to remain standing, but couldn’t. My legs refused to support me. I sank back down to the spot on the log next to Anselina, feeling ill. The men had all come back, but Michael was nowhere in sight.

Chapter Fifteen

If I had a dog as ugly as him, I’d shave his butt and make him walk backwards.

~Grandma Sugar

There are some moments in our lives we never forget. They are so important, and pivotal, they get burned into our souls. Those minutes spent waiting for Michael to come through the door were like that. The time span between when the iron doors opened, and when the last man walked into the compound turned into a life-altering experience. It made me realize my feelings for him had gone way beyond a girlish crush or a silly obsession. In that moment, I knew I loved him.

The gypsy women watched me, pity marking their pretty, painted faces. I rose unsteadily back to my feet, afraid if I made eye contact I might see the horrible truth reflected there, and I couldn’t handle it. My brain had shut down, and my heart was a frozen, black stone lodged deep in my chest.

I stumbled toward the door, but stopped when I heard a shuffling sound coming from the darkness. I allowed myself a last tiny whisper of hope as I waited, clasping my hands together and mouthing a silent prayer. When a face appeared, however, it wasn’t Michael’s.

A Moktar came through the doorway, bloodied and limping, his hands tied behind his back. When the Travellers gasped, he lifted his chin, his stance arrogant and almost regal. It took me a full minute to realize the Moktar was a prisoner. He acted like he’d been invited to this party as an honored guest.

Michael stepped through the doorway behind him, his eyes searching the crowd, and for a moment I thought I would collapse to the ground in a sobbing heap. I tried to yell his name, but my voice came out as a hoarse squeak. I wanted to run to him, but Ryan held me back. I struggled against him with all my might.

Michael and the Moktar both looked at me. The Moktar’s ears twitched, and it sniffed the air. Michael nudged it forward none too gently.

“Stay back, Emerson.” Michael’s voice sounded harsh and irritated. Bloodied and bruised, he didn’t look much better off than the Moktar, but at least he wasn’t the one tied up.

Hearing Michael’s voice calmed me, and I stopped fighting Ryan. He released his hold, keeping one arm around my shoulders to steady me. I was glad he did because I didn’t feel altogether stable.

The Moktar hissed and snapped his jaws, giving me a knowing smile. Michael smacked it on the head with a spiked mace, causing a fresh trail of blood to pour down the Moktar’s face.

Anselina stomped to the edge of the crowd. “Why have you brought that thing here?”

“Questioning.”

Bringing a Moktar home like a stray dog must have been a real no-no. The men acted like a bunch of boys who’d just misbehaved, elbowing each other and laughing under their breath. Probably a combination of whiskey and testosterone, but Anselina and several of the other council members didn’t seem amused.

“This is forbidden. We cannot have them in our midst. It’s dangerous,” screeched Mavin. She hid behind a bunch of women, but I recognized the piercing shrillness of her voice. The Moktar turned toward the sound, his yellow eyes searching the crowd.

Anselina’s lips tightened into a hard line. “For once, I agree with Mavin. Why do you have to question it here?”

Michael shot her an impatient glance. “The council gave me two weeks, I don’t have much time.”

I closed my eyes, feeling like I might pass out. He’d put himself and everyone else in danger for me.

Ryan gave me a little squeeze. “Are you all right?” He and Leah watched me with concern.

I took a deep breath, needing to pull it together. “Yes.”

Michael brought the Moktar up to a tree in the center of the compound. It snapped its razor sharp teeth at him, but he avoided its mouth easily. He didn’t even seem concerned. I, on the other hand, was a nervous, shivering wreck. As soon as he had the beast tied tightly to the tree trunk, he stood in front of it, holding his metal mace. The Moktar took a deep breath and laughed, closing its eyes as if in ecstasy.

“Ah, it smells good in here.”

Michael whacked the Moktar in the stomach. It yelped in pain.

“What’s your name, creature?” Michael paced back and forth in front of the prisoner, swinging his weapon menacingly.

The Moktar looked at Michael with his feral eyes, and then shrugged. “It does me no harm to answer you, Traveller. I am the one they call Chakba. I know who you are already.”

Michael paused in his pacing and stopped in front of Chakba. “Who am I?”

Chakba laughed, a deep, cruel sound. “You are the one called Michael, the Nightingale. You fly by night and bring death to my people in the darkness, and you are the Ceannfort.”

The Travellers growled, like they wanted to tear Chakba apart piece by piece. I didn’t feel bad for Chakba, he was clearly a monster, but didn’t like the feeling I got from the crowd either.

“How do you know that?” Michael’s voice was deceptively calm, but his hands clenched and a muscle worked in his jaw. I knew him well enough at this point to understand he barely controlled his fury. He reminded me of a rumbling volcano about to erupt.

“We know much about you, especially how you taste on our tongues.” Chakba let out a little laugh and licked his lips greedily. “I want to eat you all, bit by bit, especially your females.”

Michael pulled out a knife. At the sight of his blade, the Chakba looked worried for the first time. “Kill me now, Traveller, but untie me first. Let me die fighting.”

“That is not going to happen.” Michael gave him a long hard look. “But I can promise you a quick death if you answer our questions and a slow death if you do not.”

Chakba spat on the ground. “It matters not to me.”

Michael pointed his knife at Chakba’s male appendage. “What if I start here? I can cut this off first.”

His yellow eyes locked on the knife, widening in fear. “I will not betray my people.”

Michael scowled at him. “You aren’t ‘people,’ you’re beasts.”

“Some of us are more like you than you think.”

“What does he mean?” I asked Leah, who stood next to me. She shook her head.

“I have no idea.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “But he smells bloody awful.”

Chakba scanned the crowd, and once again, his eyes met mine. He smiled, showing rows of sharp, yellowing teeth. “There she is.”

Michael followed Chakba’s gaze. As soon as he realized Chakba had singled me out, the color rose in his cheeks. He hit Chakba again with his stick, harder this time, but Chakba kept his eyes on mine.

“She is the one.”

“What are you talking about?” Michael’s face was only inches away from Chakba’s. I wanted to haul him back with my own two hands. He stood too close to that monster.

Chakba just laughed. “She is the one he wants. Our alpha is tracking her right now. He will catch her, too. He will have her over and over again and make her beg for more. Then, after she has borne him a few sons, he will rip her apart and eat her.”

Michael took the knife and shoved it up to Chakba’s neck. A thin line of blood trickled down from where the knife pricked his skin. “What is his name?”

Chakba’s eyes were filled with pure malice. “He is Melo, and you should already know him.”

“Why? He’s nothing to me.” Michael kept his knife at Chakba’s throat.

Chakba laughed. “He is the son of your delightful mother, sweet like a summer bloom, Roseanne.”

Sampson howled like an animal in agony, and then slumped into Patrick’s arms. At first, I thought he might have passed out, but he was simply overcome with pain and grief. Michael breathed hard, trying to control himself.

“My mother is alive?”

Chakba’s lips twisted cruelly. “She was fun while she lasted, and delicious when she died.” He looked right at me, his expression pure evil. “And your brother will enjoy this one, too. He’s been looking forward to it. All he talks about is finding her and making her his.”

Michael took the knife and began cutting a shallow line down Chakba’s abdomen. He paused just above his belly button. Chakba wasn’t laughing anymore. “She isn’t a Traveller. Why would he want her?”

Chakba looked at Michael in surprise, and then laughed. “You Roms are completely hopeless. You can’t see what it right in front of your ugly faces. Look at that golden, pretty, girl. You have no idea what she is, do you? She’s a gem in a box filled with nothing but glass.”

Michael put the knife to his throat once again. “What is she?”

Chakba shook his head. “I won’t tell you. I’ll save that for Melo.” He licked his lips again, looking at me longingly. “Although I wish I could taste her first…”

Michael shoved the knife deep into Chakba’s belly and then backed away, leaving it there. Chakba gasped. “I answered your questions. Kill me now, Traveller. Kill me quick.”

Michael’s body trembled with rage. “You allowed my mother no such courtesy. Die slowly, beast.”

The gypsies, led by Sampson, approached with murder in their eyes. Chakba pleaded for mercy, but Michael ignored him. He grabbed my hand and pulled me away, but not before I saw them tear Chakba apart piece by piece. His screams sounded very human at first, but turned into the howls of a dying animal before they stopped completely.

Michael led me to a copse of tall trees and pulled me roughly into his arms. My face fit into his neck, and he smelled like sweat and blood, but he was wonderfully and miraculously alive. I felt like I could walk on air. Michael quickly brought me back to Earth. He put his hands on my shoulders and held me away from him.

“Who are you, Emerson?”

I looked up at him, perplexed. “You know who I am.”

Michael’s eyes scanned my body, his eyes narrowing. “Why are dressed like a whore? Did you
want
to draw attention to yourself? Are you a complete idiot?”

I blinked away tears. “The girls dressed me up. I thought you’d like it.”

He let go of my shoulders and looked at me like I was lower than a cockroach. “Bringing you here was a mistake. I’ve put everyone in greater danger. Go back and change into your own clothes. I have to speak with my family.”

“Michael, I’m sorry.”

“It’s too late, Emerson.”

His eyes were cold and cruel. He rubbed a hand over his head and walked away. I watched him go, my heart shattering into a thousand pieces.

Back at his caravan, I put the pretty golden dress on a hanger. I’d give it back to Audrey tomorrow. I couldn’t face anyone right now. I pulled on my yoga pants and a soft, pink shirt, scrubbed my face until it was raw, and sat down on Michael’s couch. I waited for the tears to come, but nothing happened. I felt numb.