InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Child of Earth and Sea ❯ Chapter 3 ( Chapter 3 )

AN: The Child of Earth and Sea is part of the Purity series and set in the current time line of Charity and Ben's story. Rumiko Takahashi owns Inuyasha and all recognizable characters from the anime, all characters from the Purity universe belong to Sueric, I have simply been granted the honor of taking them out to play for a little while. This series tells the story of Nessa Beaumonte, from the one-shot Heart of a Warrior, and has been written with the approval of, and in collaboration with the original author of the Purity Universe, Sueric.

 

 

 

 

By WhisperingWolf

 

Chapter 3

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Hey man! Don't go spacing off on us!”

 

J.J. rocked forward on his feet, feeling the irritating sting of the slap Corey had landed on his back. Damn cat youkai would be the death of him yet. Blinking quickly as he shook off the last lingering traces of the memory, J.J. grabbed tightly to the thick rope in his hands and stepped back. The muscles across his back and arms bulged beneath his shirt, straining against the weight as he pulled on the middle of three ropes attached to the pulleys anchored between the wrecker and the fire truck as he and two other men worked on hefting the small sedan up over the cliff. It hadn't fallen very far, and the driver had already been rescued, but when they'd tried attaching the automatic wench to pull the vehicle up, the motor had sputtered, sparked and died.

 

“How in the hell did he get the guide rope?” George Tanner - better known as Georgie-boy - asked as he grunted. “Damnit!” he called as his foot slipped, the weight of the car pulling him forward before he caught his footing and braced himself once more.

 

“I say we tag him, bag him, and fry him,” Shorty said out of the side of his mouth as he locked his steely gaze on J.J. and jerked his head toward Corey.

 

J.J. snorted in response as he changed his hold on the rope, grabbing it higher up before pulling down again. “Tell me why we aren't hauling this thing up with one of the trucks?”

 

“Pfft! You were the one who made that call, boss,” Shorty reminded him. “How the fuck can he dance around like that?” he growled as he pulled back against the weight on the rope he held, his attention focused on Corey.

 

“You know he gets bored easily. Don't know how he kept his focus long enough to pass the exams,” George said as he grunted.

 

“Ninety-percent of the exams are physical,” Shorty shot back. “Kid has more energy than God and is still going.”

 

“Yeah, well I say we find a way to squeeze the energy out of him and bottle it. We could make a fortune!”

 

J.J. released a short-amused breath as he shook his head, turning to look at George. The man had been the youngest on the team, until Corey joined their ranks, and the last one to be hand-picked by Ethan himself. He looked down at the cliffside only a few feet away and clenched his jaw as he pulled harder on the rope, the sound of the earth crunching beneath the car getting louder as the car got closer. He knew that if Ethan had been there with them, his friend would have given the kid a good ribbing for the short-cropped hair he now sported.

 

George was on the edge of thirty and was still dumb enough to challenge Shorty to a drinking match, believing that he could down more shots than the older man could simply because he was younger. And the price to be paid for losing? Shorty had shaved his head, and the jaw-length black curls had fallen to the floor. Somehow, the new hairstyle made the kid look older, tougher, the curls he'd once worn having given him an almost cherubic appearance.

 

“You've been quiet,” Shorty said, and J.J. turned his head to meet his friend's gaze, the sound of a metallic groan and one tire popping signaling the car's rise over the cliff as the nose of the damaged front end appeared. “Ethan?” the man asked, and J.J. nodded. “Yeah, I've been thinking about him a lot, too. You know, he knew Ricky was leaving before Ricky did. Told me a few days before it all went down that Ricky had one foot out the door. I always wondered why he named him as his kids' godfather and not you. Hell, those kids are always climbing all over you.” He laughed as he shook his head. “I remember when Gwen had colic as a baby and Ethan swore you were the only one Gwen would quiet down for.”

 

J.J. chuckled as he smiled, grunting shortly after as he pulled harder on the rope, the car finally making it over the edge of the cliff, the undercarriage scraping across the dirt and rock. “Ethan told me once that he did it to make Patty happy. He never explained what he meant by that though,” he offered, sighing as he released the rope and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his left wrist. “He loved doing this shit,” he laughed as he nodded to the rope and pulleys and the banged-up car. “He always said it was better than going to the gym.”

 

“J.J.'s Superman!” a small voice called excitedly behind them, and J.J. turned around, laughing as he jogged over to the side of the road.

 

Gwen and Dobby were waiting for him, the girl standing with her brother on her hip and her school bag on her shoulder. There was no one with her. No adult, no familiar vehicle, nothing. Frowning as he looked back behind her, J.J. turned his narrowed gaze on Gwen.

 

“Saw it on the news, and Dobby wanted to come watch,” she offered with a shrug.

 

“We're at least ten miles from your house. Who drove you out here?” he asked her as he took Dobby from her, tossing the boy up into the air and catching him again and again as he shrieked and giggled.

 

“We're fine. I made sure we were safe,” Gwen replied defensively, her arms crossed in front of her.

 

J.J. sighed. There were times when he almost wondered if Gwen thought he would take Dobby away from her if she were to give him - or anyone else - the impression that she couldn't take care of Dobby on her own. He knew that it wasn't that she didn't trust him, she had simply gotten too used to being the adult and being her brother's sole caregiver. She was nine years old, still just a cub herself. She should be at home playing with dolls, or drawing or doing what she wanted to do, not acting as her brother's keeper. If Ethan could see his cubs now, J.J. knew the man would be more than a little upset with the widow he'd left behind.

 

“Ammeline's at the school conference tonight. Did your mother bring you?” he asked her, and Gwen shrugged once more as she adjusted her schoolbag on her shoulder.

 

“Mom got rid of Dad's car two days after he died and never bothered to take anything out of it. She doesn't even own a car seat. If she drives us anywhere, I have to hold Dobby on my lap.” Gwen frowned as she looked behind him at the car, her gaze focused on the damage done to the front of it when it had slammed through the roadside barrier. “She went back to New York though, so it's not like she really could have brought us. Not that she would. She barely acknowledges that we exist.”

 

“What do you mean she's back in New York?” he interrupted her and watched as her mouth moved before closing with an audible clack.

“The morning after she arrived,” Gwen replied with a sigh. “She was here just long enough to drag us out of school and back to our house. She told me to never embarrass her like that again, and then she wrote out a check for twenty thousand dollars and told me to give it to some lady at the school library.”

 

J.J. closed his eyes as he forced down his rising ire and took in a deep breath before meeting her gaze once more. “Do you know the lady's name?” he asked and Gwen nodded. “I want that name, Gwen,” he demanded.

 

“Linda Grassley.”

 

“. . . The social worker assigned to your case?” he asked with disbelief and Gwen shrugged. “Your father just died and your mother is abandoning you and she has the audacity to pay someone off.”

 

`At least now you and Amme have an answer as to why child services doesn't seem to care that those cubs are without a mother,' his youkai-voice said, the anger he could feel from his youkai matched only by the anger he felt.

 

She scoffed as she arched her brow. “She still insists Dad ran off with someone else. He's -“

 

“She what?” J.J. bit out, only barely restraining himself from growling outright.

 

`The hell?' his youkai snapped.

 

“She keeps telling people that Dad ran off with his secretary. Dad never even had a secretary. She just made it all up. Worst part of it is, she keeps trying to convince me that my own father isn't dead, that he ran off because he didn't love us. How messed up is that?” she snapped angrily, and he could see the tears shinning in her gaze. “She tried to tell Dobby that. Tried to convince him that Daddy didn't love him.”

 

“How long has this been going on?” J.J. asked as he moved to sit down in the grass on the shoulder of the road with Dobby seated in his lap, the lane closest to them closed off from traffic for the rescue vehicles.

 

“Since the night you all came for us, when you told us about Daddy,” she told him sadly, for once sounding as young as she actually was, and bit her lip when her chin trembled. “She acts like he did it on purpose. All of his pictures are gone. Everything of his is gone, except what I brought over to your house when you took us there. But at home, it's like he never even existed. Mom gets mad when I talk about him, but she talks about Uncle Ricky enough, and he did leave. Just walked out and didn't even tell us. I stopped trying to call him after the fourth message that went unanswered . . . His answer was pretty clear,” said solemnly.

 

J.J. frowned as he reached out to smooth his hand down over the length of her hair. “She talks about Ricky?” he asked.

 

Gwen shrugged as she looked out across the highway, staring off into the trees on the other side of the road. “Only to say that he had the right idea in moving out to L.A. She always says that she hates it here. I used to hear her and Daddy fighting when they thought I was asleep. She kept trying to get him to move back to New York. Said he could make more money in magazines.” Gwen folded her arms tighter as she curled closer to J.J., shivering under the cool breeze that blew through the trees. “I swear, sometimes, I think she hated him. It's like she's glad that he's dead.”

 

“You didn't trip on the stairs two weeks ago, did you?” he asked her, scraping his teeth together as he tried to reign in his temper. It was Dobby who answered.

 

“The mean lady hit Mommy!” Dobby said as he lifted his head from J.J.'s shoulder. “An' den she hit me when I said I wanted Daddy. When's Daddy coming home? Why did he go away, J.J.? Can't you tell him to come home?”

 

Gwen turned her face away as she gasped, the smell of salt filling the air as the tears in her eyes fell upon her cheeks. J.J. sighed as he wrapped his arm around Gwen, dropping a kiss to her hair as he held her close and rubbed her arm.

 

“You always have a home with us. Both of you,” he promised the children. “Anytime you need us, anytime you want a break from her, or she runs off and leaves you alone, always remember that you have a home with us where you are welcomed and wanted. And should you ever feel like you want to run away from home, I want you to promise that you'll run to me and Ammeline. I don't want you out there alone,” he told Gwen, and clenched his jaw when she offered a broken sob, her breath hitching as she nodded. “Shorty,” he called back over his shoulder, only to release an amused breath when the man appeared by his side.

 

“The guys and I got this. I'll drop the reports off on your desk and you can deal with them later,” the man said, and J.J. nodded his thanks. “Go on and get them out of here. Looks like it's going to rain.”

 

“Showty!” Dobby called to the man as he lifted his arms in the air, opening and closing his fists as he begged to be picked up.

 

“I'm a mess, little man,” Shorty told him with a grin. “How about we get the guys together for a movie night, or some mountain camping like we used to do with you and your dad?” he asked, glancing up at J.J. The polar bear nodded, and Shorty's smile widened. “We'll set a date,” he promised the boy.

 

“Okay, Showty,” Dobby answered, wrapping his arms around J.J.'s neck when the man stood. “Mommy, I'm tired.”

 

“I know, baby,” Gwen answered as she stood.

 

J.J. frowned when she wavered on her feet, reaching out a steadying hand to help her regain her balance. “When was the last time you slept?” he asked her.

 

“Ask him,” she deflected, flicking her wrist at Dobby. “He's the one that doesn't want to go to sleep anymore. I need to get Cheerios, he's almost out. It's the only thing he eats anymore,” she said absently, turning around as if she was looking for something, only to still and narrow her eyes at the ground. “Did I have Dobby's bag with me?”

 

“No,” J.J. replied with a worried frown. “Come on, you two are moving back in with us for the time being. And you need - “ His words cut off when he brushed his hand against her cheek, his frown deepening when he cupped his palm over her brow. “ - sleep,” he finished tightly.

 

`She's warm,' he thought.

 

His youkai scoffed in response. `Warm? You've held mugs of coffee that weren't as hot as she is. That girl has a fever.'

 

`She's human. Humans get sick,' he replied, and felt the answering anger from his youkai.

 

`Yeah, and humans can die from being sick,' his youkai maintained.

 

J.J. pursed his lips but chose not to respond. She probably just had a cold, or maybe the flu but in the age of over the counter cold medicine and penicillin, he didn't feel the need to worry as much as his youkai did. She needed sleep - real sleep - a decent meal, and a warm bed, he told himself. And if he knew his mate as well as he thought he did, Ammeline would be playing mother hen in no time. She'd already told him a few times that Gwen and Dobby were her pups, genetics be damned.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

J.J. stepped into the open door of the bedroom, his hands tucked into the pockets of his pants as he leaned against the wooden frame, watching as Ammeline sat next Gwen on the bed, the human girl tucked beneath the blankets. It had been two days, and the fever he'd brought her home with had yet to abate. And despite Gwen's fervent arguments to the contrary, Ammeline had kept the girl home from school for those same two days, insisting that her health was more important than her school work.

 

“I hear someone's been a little resistant to the idea of taking it easy,” he said, leaning down to catch Dobby when the toddler hopped off his bed and ran toward him. “Hi, little man,” he greeted as he sat Dobby on his hip, holding the child against his side with his arm curled around his back and under his bottom.

 

“J.J., Mama's sick,” Dobby told him, his eyes wide in an exaggerated pout as he grabbed onto the Search and Rescue patch on the shoulder of J.J.'s sleeve.

 

“I know,” he told the boy, tapping the end of his nose with his index finger before turning his attention on Gwen. “You can't sleep, can you?” he asked Gwen and watched her shake her head. “Why don't you scoot over a bit,” he instructed.

 

Ammeline smiled as she stood up and moved to sit on the opposite side of the bed, her back against the headboard. “Once you're better, Gwen, I'm going to take you and your brother shopping and we'll turn this into your room, and the other guest room into your brother's room. How would you like that?” she asked as J.J. toed out of his house shoes and moved toward the bed.

 

“Our rooms?” Gwen asked softly, her voice scratchy and weak.

 

“For as long as you like, whenever you want or need them,” she promised, dropping a kiss to the girl's hair. “You'll always have a home here. I think J.J.'s planning on telling you a story,” she said as she glanced up at her mate with a knowing smile.

 

“Stowy!” Dobby exclaimed, throwing his fists into the air in excitement and only narrowly missing J.J.'s cheek in the process.

 

“Your father carried the stories of his people,” J.J. began as he sat down, and lifted his arm to allow Gwen closer, wrapping his arm around her back when she tucked herself against his side. “Some would call him a bard, others would call him a troubadour. But Ethan would just tell you that he loved to hear and tell the stories of his ancestors.” J.J. smiled as he looked down at Gwen, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Over the years, Ethan and I would go camping up in the mountains and he would tell me the stories of his people or recite his favorite legends about King Arthur by the campfire.”

 

“Like Mama?” Dobby asked from where he sat in the man's lap, his wide cobalt eyes - Ethan's eyes - staring up curiously.

 

“Just like,” J.J. agreed with a smile. “You've got your father's gift for storytelling, Gwen. He used to get the same lilt to his voice that you do when you recite that book to Dobby. You have his eidetic memory, too. He could remember everything he ever read.”

 

“I can't do that with everything,” Gwen denied, her brow furrowed in a thoughtful scowl.

 

“Sure, you can,” Ammeline told her, the woman sitting behind the girl. “How else would you remember those obscure details Mrs. Carmichael asks on the history tests without needing to reference the book or your notes?”

 

“I never thought even thought about that,” Gwen muttered slowly, her quiet voice alight with wonder. “The answers were always just there.”

 

J.J. chuckled as he squeezed her close, tipping his head down to drop a kiss to her hair. “I knew Ethan before he married your mother. In fact, I don't know if he ever told you or not, but he hand-picked me to be on his team all those years ago, and I wasn't even search and rescue back then.”

 

“He did?” Gwen asked, and the man nodded with a smile.

 

“He did. Back then, I hadn't really settled into what I wanted to do. I was just working as a tour guide down at Fields Bond Audubon, teaching kids about plant life. Ethan had come down there,” he paused as he narrowed his eyes, “I don't remember if he ever told me why he was there, but, one of the kids on tour had snuck away and gotten into one of the exhibits marked off limits. It was down for repairs and renovation, he had just wanted to go on an adventure, and ended up getting trapped when he kicked the leg of a scaffolding platform and it fell on him. We knew that structure was bad, which is part of the reason why it was blocked off. I went in to get the cub out, and your dad was right there with me, working side by side to rescue him. I swear, in that moment, it felt like we'd always done that - always worked together. I'm not one to normally believe in past lives, but if I did, it would have been because of him.”

 

“Dad always said you were a natural,” Gwen said, her voice soft as she stared up at him. He watched her frown thoughtfully as she narrowed her eyes. “He used to call you dina . . . dina . . . “

 

“Dinadanvtli , it means brother,” J.J. supplied as she stumbled over the Cherokee word and nodded, his mouth tilting up to one side in a crooked grin. “The story I thought I'd tell you tonight, is something your father told me. It was the night of your birth, Gwen,” he told her, and watched her eyes light up. “You were born at home. Did your dad ever tell you that?” he asked, and smiled when she shook her head, her eyes wide with wonder and excitement.

 

Ammeline chuckled. “As I recall, your mother had everything planned out, including a prescheduled C-section.”

 

J.J. laughed as he rolled his eyes, nodding as he sighed. “Yes, she did. Your mother had everything planned out in a very specific set order, but you, little miss,” he said with a chuckle as he mussed Gwen's hair, “were bound and determined to do it all on your own. Ethan called me in the middle of the night, he'd gone out to get something that your mother was craving - lasagna, I think it was - and when he came back she was in full labor. That indigestion she thought she had was you trying your damnedest to fight your way out of the womb.”

 

“I did not!” Gwen scoffed. J.J. and Ammeline laughed.

 

“Oh, yes you did,” J.J. told her with a wide smile. “Ammeline and I went over to your house, and oh your mother was pissed,” he chuckled. “She does not like it when people don't follow her plans. You were already crowning before we got there, and your head was out before the ambulance arrived. Three weeks early, and feisty as hell,” he recalled with a laugh. “You were the cutest little thing,” he praised her.

 

“The medics told your dad what we both already knew - you were healthy and perfect. They took your mom in to be checked out, but your mom refused to let your dad ride in the ambulance. No one really knew why,” he said, brow furrowed in confusion. “A couple nights later, your dad showed up on my doorstep, snow falling all around him, and you wrapped in a blanket in his arms.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“But Uncle Ricky was our Godfather. I thought he was Dad's best friend,” Gwen said with a frown, her voice pulling J.J. from the memory.

 

“He and your father were friends, yes, and he was your Godfather,” J.J. agreed with a slow nod. “But as Ethan used to say “Godfather is a white-man's term”. What your father was asking of us was more and different.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“They're asleep,” Ammeline said, and J.J. nodded as he blinked the memory away. “I'd almost forgotten about that. Ethan never said anything else about it.”

 

J.J. snorted in amusement. “I don't think he could see through the concealments clearly. There were times that he'd do this double-take look at me, but it only happened when he was really tired or vulnerable, or when he was so relaxed that he let his guard down. I wonder sometimes, if either of them can see through the concealments.”

 

“Mom told me once that most infants and toddlers can,” Ammeline said, grinning as she nodded down to Dobby, the toddler asleep with the end of J.J.'s braid in his mouth, the polar bear youkai's concealment usually hiding it. “She said once they turned three that something happened. She wasn't sure what, but she described it as though the pups stopped believing that fairytales were real. I don't know. I don't think any of our kind have ever studied it - and for good reason - and I think Mom's exposure to human pups was limited, but. . . ” She sighed as she shrugged. “Who knows?”

 

“Sometimes, I think Gwen can,” he told her quietly. “She likes to trace the back of my hand, exactly where my crests are, but she's never said anything.”

 

“She might just think they're tattoos, depending on how well she can see them,” Ammeline offered.

 

“Time will tell,” he agreed with a slow nod.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The barest sliver of the waning moon cast an eerie glow over the land, ankle-high grasses dancing in the early spring breeze as patches of silver light reflected in broken patterns on the surface of the natural pond. Deep rich green leaves shook and trembled in the midnight breeze, the new growth of the season on the century old tree beckoning them closer with the promise of a safe hiding place. Their feet whispered against the feathering grasses as they darted out from the cover of the forest to run across the open field, coming to a stop beneath the dark shadow cast by the large oak.

 

“Wait for me,” Satoshi ordered quietly, nodding to the tree above them.

 

Vanessa whined as she was passed from her mother's arms to her father's, at the same time, Satoshi passed the bags he'd been carrying to his mate. He held their daughter as she snuggled against his shoulder, kept her wrapped in his youki, a cocoon of safety as she slept, his eyes scanning over the field around them as he waited for Amaya to climb into the tree. The bags weren't light by any means, the worry that the weight might unbalance Amaya making him turn his attention back to watch as she moved from branch to branch, climbing up into the highest strongest boughs of the tree where she was almost completely hidden from view. He narrowed his eyes as he watched her brace herself between two stout branches as she reached over to a third to hook one bag over a wide branch before repeating the process two more times. If he hadn't known where she was, he thought with some measure of relief, he never would've been able to see her. He moved carefully as he took the bag his daughter carried from her shoulders, slipping the straps down her arms before tossing it up to her waiting mother.

 

“Okay, give her to me,” Amaya said as she came back down to the wide branch just above Satoshi's head, and reached out for their daughter.

 

“Papa,” Vanessa whined, sighing heavily as she was wrapped securely in her mother's arms.

 

“I'll be back soon,” he told them, the barest hint of a smile curling the edges of his lips when he felt Amaya's energy wrap around his as they held their daughter in the twin embrace of their youki before he withdrew his and offered a slow nod to his mate. “When I was scouting earlier, in the tops of that old pine, I saw barns on each property. It'll be better if we can stay in one of them tonight. It smells like rain.”

 

“You can just thicken the branches, right?” Amaya asked him quietly, and he looked up to see her furrowed brow, frowning at the weakness he felt in her youki. She was exhausted, he thought, his lips pressed into a thin line. “You don't have to - “

 

“Amaya,” he interrupted her gently, but firmly, his brows arched as he offered her a pointed stare. “I'll be back,” he promised, and waited for her nod before he left the cover of the tree.

 

His mate was exhausted, and he would be a fool to not know why. He'd felt the barrier she'd cast around himself and Vanessa as they'd slept each night, though there was a part of him that was beginning to suspect that his mate wasn't actively aware of what she was doing. As much as he wished they could have remained in the cover of the forest, knowing that in some manner it brought his mate a sense of security, he knew that they couldn't. For all the foliage that surrounded them there, they were too exposed. Each time they went back and forth between the trees and the pond, they risked someone seeing them. His family needed shelter, fresh water, food, but above all safety. The tree he had left his mate and daughter in was a good compromise, but a barn with a roof and - if it was one of the newer redesigned buildings - heat, would be better.

 

They were in new territory here in Canada, he acknowledged as he pulled the cuffs of the dark sweater he wore down over his hands. The wildlife where they had lived in Montana had been used to them, but the creatures had also been smaller, not needing nearly as much girth to survive the winters. Here, lynxes were common, as were eagles and hawks big enough to attack or fly off with medium-sized dogs or small children. There were moose, bears, even cougars and wolves, all of which were dangerous in their own right, and for as a gentle and loving a spirit as his daughter was, he knew that Vanessa wouldn't see anything wrong at all with trying to reach out and pet one of the animals.

 

The wild animals near their home in Montana had responded to Vanessa in a way that they never had with him, with caution and curiosity, and even at times, treating her as one of their own. A few of the wild deer and foxes even allowed her to pet them or hug them, but he couldn't take that risk here where the wild animals were bigger. The wind shifted around him, bringing with it the scents of evergreen and daffodils to ensnare his mind as a memory rose up around him in whispers and shadows.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The memory faded as Satoshi reached back over his shoulder, catching the end of his braid in his hand and dragged it forward to pull the cloth covered band from the tail of it, snapping the bit of elastic around his wrist. It didn't take him more than a few seconds to free his hair, and he took the time to ruffle the dark locks, making certain most of his face was hidden from the light of the moon. He and Amaya were both fair-skinned, as pale as fresh fallen snow or ivory, and under the night sky lit only by the silvery watery light of the moon and stars, their skin often appeared to glow and shimmer in the dark.

 

`The last thing you need is to create another legend about a phantom,' his youkai reminded him, and he sighed. `Youkai know what moonlight looks like against another youkai's skin - especially pale youkai like you are. But a human? To them youkai look like glowing creatures under the moonlight.'

 

`Only when we're so far out in the country like this,' he replied dismissively.

 

`The city doesn't count, Satoshi,' his youkai scoffed. `There's too much artificial light. The moon and stars get lost in it. Wait,' the voice warned him when he advanced a few steps. `Don't go any closer, I think someone's coming out.'

 

Satoshi stilled, slipping back into the shadow of the tree near him, as he watched the door to the barn open, an older human man stepping out into the night only to turn around as the barn door closed behind him. He narrowed his eyes as he watched the man open a cover beside the door, pressing his thumb against the hidden pad underneath. The sound of a lock sliding into place caught his attention, along with an electronic beep, and he heaved a mental sigh. It would have been easy enough to hide in the barn, human senses being dull enough to not feel someone else on their land, but the Identilock on the building prevented that. Even if he wanted to, there would be no way for him to get inside.

 

“Damnit,” he whispered to himself, and turned, dashing away from the barn.

 

 

Satoshi narrowed his eyes at his youkai-voice's suggestion. The whole idea was to not draw attention to themselves and cutting the wires on an Identilock pad or damaging the control panel would draw a lot of attention. He'd learned firsthand the kind of screeching - deafening - alarm that would sound from cutting the wires on an Identilock security system That was a lesson he'd only ever needed once, he thought, his gaze falling to the feathering grasses at his feet, watching as the emerald blades danced around his bare feet. He'd given up on his shoes sometime in January, the once-polished leather that he'd worn to the small office he'd worked at in Montana not meant for the rigors of the outdoors.

 

 

He sighed as he looked up, watching the human man walk toward the main house, his shuffling gait growing slower. Cold weather was not kind to humans, he'd learned that rather quickly after taking his first job in a mostly-human run company well over three hundred years ago. The click of the latch pulled him from his musing, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the house. The second the light in the front room went off, he darted from beneath the cover of the tree.

 

He moved quickly across the land, his form nothing more than a dark blur that would be easy enough for the human mind to reason away as shadows of trees in the night breeze. Crouching low before pushing off the ground, he sprang high into a weeping fir tree that was easily two hundred feet tall, and climbed higher into the thick branches to gain a better vantage point as he looked down at the other property. Both houses were massive, the estates clearly meant for someone of wealth and privilege, he thought as his gaze fell to tree he was crouched in. There had been a time that he had lived in that kind of luxury, but to do so again came at a price, one he wasn't willing to pay.

 

The soft yellow glow of a light flicking on drew his attention, and he turned his gaze back to the house below. Humans, he thought with some relief. It wasn't much, and he wouldn't be able to take his family into the barn on either property, but at least the occupants for both estates were humans. There was some measure of comfort in knowing that there wouldn't be a youkai coming out in search of any new presence or scent on their land.

 

Satoshi flinched back, his brows drawing together as he lifted his hand to wipe the droplet of water from his cheek, and looked up through the boughs of the tree, the evergreen stretching another hundred feet above him. It was raining. Rubbing his hand down over his face, he shook his head and dropped down to a lower branch before landing silently in the wet grass below. This was exactly the thing he'd been trying to avoid. Youkai couldn't get sick, they didn't catch colds or the flu like humans did, but he knew how cold rains affected Vanessa . . . how they affected Amaya.

 

Where Vanessa became tired and wanted nothing more than to sleep, Amaya became energized, responsive. The cold rains reminded his mate of the ocean, of a home that would always exist in her heart, and the deep sorrow that she thought she hid from him. He knew she would dream of swimming in the ocean in her youkai form tonight, perhaps even over the next few days, and he knew that waking up as she was, in her humanoid form, would make her cry. She would smile for him, be extra attentive and affectionate, even as she tried to hide her tears. It wasn't that their life together was lacking, or that she regretted being with him - he knew that without question - but he also knew that she feared he'd think just that.

 

“Amaya?” Satoshi called out as he came to a stop under the tree by the pond, frowning as he stared up through the boughs. The tree was fuller than before, even knowing where his family was, he couldn't see them.

 

“Vanessa,” Amaya answered him simply as he alighted onto a branch halfway between the bottom of the tree and where she was. “When it started to rain, she made the branches thicker, fuller, and braided them to keep us dry. She made her own nest,” she told him as she nodded to the side.

 

He followed her gaze, a smile tugging at his lips when he spotted the nest balanced between two thick branches. The twisted bowl was grown from the tree, branches emerging from the trunk only to wind around each other, braided together like a basket. He kissed Amaya's cheek as he joined her on the branch she was sitting on and peered over the side at their daughter. Green vines had been wrapped around the nest, thick flowering bunches of wisteria hanging down around the inside of the nest, filling it from the bottom to cushion her.

 

“She loves wisteria,” he mused, the sound of his mate's laughter soothing him.

 

“It's the flowers,” she told him, drawing in a breath as she tucked herself under his arm against his side. “She said it's like sleeping on a cloud. And the jasmine,” she said, reaching out to touch the long ropes of star jasmine that had been wrapped over each other into a blanket. “She loves the smell of jasmine.”

 

Satoshi released a heavy breath, a wistful exhalation as he shook his head slowly. “I fear that one day she'll look back on this and . . . “

 

“And what?” she asked when he remained silent. “Satoshi, these are the times she'll remember, the memories she'll cherish. She won't look back on this and be upset. She'll look back on this and remember what it was like to be where she belonged, surrounded by the things that make her who she is.”

 

Satoshi sighed as he nodded slightly, whether he was agreeing with her or not, he wasn't sure. Closing his eyes as he pressed his hands against the trunk of the tree, he pushed his youki into the wood, feeling the oak vibrate as it responded to him. Three branches grew out from the tree, two were on the same level with one slightly beneath in the middle. The twin branches reached out, wrapped around each other in a long oval, the branch underneath curving down before arcing back up to wind around the twisted branches.

 

Satoshi stopped as he took a breath, the task of creating the `bed' he and his mate would sleep in more taxing on him now because of the constant energy he'd been pouring into the earth and forest around his family. His efforts to keep them safe, to look out for any dangers, any unknown youki, left him running on fumes just as much as Amaya was. The want for something more permanent, something that would offer his family just a modicum of stability burned within him as powerful as it was debilitating. His most important job was to protect them, and lately - more often than not - he felt like he was failing miserably.

 

“Pick a flower, just not a rose or anything with thorns,” he told Amaya without looking back at her, and smiled when she giggled. They both knew he could make a rose bush form without its natural thorns, but his gentle teasing soothed her, taking away her fear as he knew it would.

 

“Honeysuckle,” she mused quietly behind him, and he smiled when he felt her hand on his back, the warmth and thrum of her power as she pushed her youki into him, offering to help in her own way. “And that pretty red and gold flower you grew before we crossed into Canada.”

 

“Spanish Flag vines,” he told her, smiling as he gripped one of the branches he'd grown, feeling Amaya's youki wrap around his as the vines emerged from the tree. “I just grew those to mark the path we were on,” he told her, and felt the shift in her youki.

 

“They were pretty,” she maintained with an amused tone. He chuckled in reply.

 

Honeysuckle and Spanish Flags, flowering plants that were normally thin and delicate grew thick as rope, wrapping over and under the branches, turning the outline of the oblong bowl into a floral hammock. He sat back as he reached for the bag containing the clothes Amaya had packed for them, as well as the blankets she always made sure to take with them. He smiled as he pulled out the bear pelt, laying it fur side up, before reaching for the quilt Amaya had made the day of Vanessa's first birthday.

 

“Here,” Amaya said, reaching out to take the quilt, and he turned, watching as she tucked the blanket over their daughter inside her nest. “It's going to turn cold tonight.”

 

“Colder than it is now,” Satoshi agreed with a sigh, watching as his breath misted in the air in front of him. “Tomorrow, I'm going to teach our daughter how to hunt. I know you still think she's too young,” he said when she looked back at him with an arched brow as she climbed into the hammock-style nest he'd made for them, “and yes, she already knows how to catch fish by hand, but it's time. This is a skill she needs to know, especially when we're on the run like this. If something happens, Amaya, if she gets separated from us, or if something happens to us, I have to know that she can survive on her own in the wild. That she has the knowledge and skill to catch her own meals, to skin the kill and turn the pelts into clothing or shoes, or . . .”

 

He grew silent when he felt the weight of Amaya's emotions and her youki wrap around him as she tried to comfort him. Her concern drew his attention to her, his eyes lifting to meet her gaze.

 

“What do you think will happen?” she asked as he climbed in beside her, kissed her brow when she curled against him, and smiled when she pulled the quilt over them.

 

“Everything. Nothing.” He sighed as he pulled her close, wrapping her tightly in his arms and holding onto her as though his very sanity depended on it. Maybe it did, he allowed. “Those that chased us near the border have found us twice more since, and I worry constantly about the day when we're no longer with her, about what and when it will be that we're taken from her. It's not just about those chasing after us, my love. Sooner or later the Tai Youkai will figure out what happened in L.A. and a hunter will come. And then what will we do?”

 

“He's the one that started us running out here to begin with,” she told him, sniffling as she thumped her fist against his chest. He barely felt the strike. “It was the human tribes who took us in and gave us refuge all those centuries ago,” she reminded him, and he kissed her hair as he felt her ire rise, her fear giving way to sorrow. “It's always been humans who have given us aid, from the tribe on that island after we fled Japan the night you ran from your father - “

 

“Vanuatu,” he supplied, petting her hair when she sniffled.

 

“To the tribes we met when we first settled in this region almost three hundred years ago - “

 

“The Chumash tribe.” He smiled as he recalled meeting the son of the chief so long ago. “I've forgotten what they called you, but they took us in because you could lift your voice in a whale song and understood them in return, you could speak with the whales.”

 

“And you grew the earth, replenished what was lost that year due to the fires,” she reminded him.

 

“That old medicine man said they had prayed for us, that the Great Spirit sent us to them.”

 

They had stayed with the tribe almost fifty years, long enough that the humans had truly believed they were supernatural beings sent by their Great Spirits. It pained him that they hadn't been able to protect the people later on, learning only after the fact, that the village had been destroyed by white settlers less than a year after they'd left. He knew Amaya was thinking about that, too, the loss of their friends something that she had never truly been able to accept. The silence that fell between them was heavy, filled with memories weighted as much by peace as they were by pain. For every moment of happiness, of goodness, in their lives, it felt that there were at least five more shrouded in darkness and despair.

 

“Satoshi,” she called to him. “What if . . . What if he doesn't kill you? What if the Tai Youkai keeps you . . . alive . . . in order to have me, as that man you met with told you he would?”

 

“Should that ever happen, Amaya,” he said, his voice low, his tone full of resignation and resolve. “I will set you free.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Because, my sweet girl,” she answered softly, her voice shaking. “If ever I were to take my youkai form - my true form - again, I would never be able to change back. I would never be able to hold you again. The water is where I was born, and the water is where I will die.” She breathed in deeply, releasing a heavy breath, not quite a sigh, as she hugged Vanessa close. “Remember this always: no matter how much you hurt, even when you feel like you're dying inside, you do everything it takes to make the ones you love smile. And you make sure that you do everything you can to do what's best for them - always.”

 

 

 

 

 

Amaya blinked as the memory faded, her pale blue gaze focusing out on the sunlight reflecting off the pond, the gentle breeze rippling over the surface of the water, whispering through the trees. It was peaceful here, quiet. She tipped her head back against the tree behind her, closing her eyes as the warmth of the sun cascaded over her, soothing her as she tried to force the memories back. If she could just forget her life before Satoshi, push her memories of the ocean down far enough that they would be nothing more than the shadows left behind by dreams, then maybe she could pretend that her daughter could do the same.

 

 

Amaya gasped softly as she blinked. `Where have you been?'

 

`I'm sorry, May,' her youkai-voice responded, sighing heavily. `I've just been really tired. I don't think you've realized it.'

 

`Realized what?' Amaya asked, frowning with worry at the sound of her youkai's exhausted tone.

 

`Satoshi's been marking the ground and the trees with his youki like tripwire to look out for any strange youkai, but you've been the one holding the barrier up around the three of you at night to shield your presence, not him. It's exhausting.'

 

Amaya shook her head. `I can't use my power alone. I've tried, but I -'

 

 

`But I don't feel tired, I feel . . . I don't know what I feel anymore,' Amaya said, her brows drawing together at the sound of her youkai-voice's tired laugh.

 

 

Amaya lifted her hands to her face, scrubbing her palms down over her cheeks as she shook her head. She couldn't deny the truth in her youkai's words. From the moment they'd fled their house in Montana, she hadn't slept at night, waiting to rest until the morning when Satoshi and Vanessa were awake and moving about. To sleep when there was no one awake to guard her mate and child, it was a risk she couldn't take. She couldn't lose her family. She'd come too close to that more than once already and those attacks had always come at night.

 

She flinched as her breath caught in her throat, flashes of memories she wished could be forgotten cascading through her mind. Tears pricked behind her eyes, and when she blinked to force them back, one rolled down her cheek. Two and half years ago, barely the blink of an eye for youkai, those that were hunting her family had gotten close - too close. Her daughter had been taken, and in trying to get her away from those that would do her harm, she had been taken as well.

 

She could still feel the pain of the encounter, the terror of not knowing where she was. The blind panic that she had felt - being able to hear her daughter crying out for her, but not being able to see her, or get to her - it was still there when she closed her eyes. She lifted her hands, rubbing away the ghostly ache of the leather bands around her wrists, cuffs that had held her tightly in place while her daughter had cried for her . . . while she had suffered the loss of the child carried inside her. It was the one memory that held the most power, and the one that she and her mate had made a vow never to speak of.

 

She knew Satoshi understood her fear, knew that he felt it as well, but what could they really do? How could they make their daughter understand why they were so adamant about her staying near them without telling her the truth and scaring her further? The decision Satoshi had made, she had never really known if it was the right one, but looking back on it now, she didn't know that she would have done things any differently, either.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Amaya shook her head as her chin trembled and tears stung at her eyes. That night had been the first time Vanessa had grown the vines she created while sleeping, her daughter never seeming to be aware of it. Two small wispy tendrils had grown from the earth on either side of Vanessa, her daughter's hand resting against the grass and soil where she'd lain sleeping, to wrap around her wrist and her mate's. Every night since, Vanessa had grown the vines, reaching out to them in her sleep and making certain they were still there, holding onto them until she woke, the tendrils pulling back into the earth seconds before her daughter opened her eyes as she would begin to wake. All of that had stopped a few weeks after they'd moved into the house they'd just been forced to abandon.

 

But that first night, almost three months ago after they led fled their house and left their car to continue on foot, Vanessa had started growing the vines again. Whether they slept on the ground, in a tree as they were now, or even spent the night in a barn as they had a few times, small tiny vines would rise out of the dirt or grass or hay to wind around their wrists, connecting them to their daughter. Even with the earth cold and frozen, she was able to do so, but only in her sleep. That alone spoke of her daughter's fear, her uncertainty. And whether Vanessa was willing to admit it, or not, Amaya knew that the vines meant she was scared, maybe even terrified, and doing her best to pretend that she wasn't.

 

“Aw, Ellie, I miss you so much.”

 

Amaya blinked as she was pulled from her thoughts and turned her attention down to the human man sitting below her on the ground. He had wandered from the house some time ago after Satoshi had left to take Vanessa hunting with him, but she hadn't paid the human man any attention until now. She frowned as she moved forward on the branch, stretching out across it as she laid down on the long arm of the tree to peer down at the man and the picture he held. The woman was beautiful, she thought. Definitely human, and from the looks of it, the woman had been thirty or forty when the photo had been taken.

 

“You were my girl for so long, and then the cancer came and took you away,” he said. A soft sigh fell from her as her brows drew together and she pressed her fingertips against her lips as she listened to him speak to his lost love. “You were always stronger than I was. You were never scared of anything. I keep waiting, Ellie. Do you remember? Before you died that night, you promised to come back to me, to let me know you were okay. You said you'd make one single perfect white rose grow down by the water's edge, that way I would know it was you. You were in so much pain, and you asked me to help make it stop and I . . . Oh, Ellie, tell me I did the right thing?”

 

Amaya gasped softly as fresh tears pricked behind her eyes, tickled in her nose. She looked back over her shoulder when she felt her mate's and daughter's presences coming closer to her. Amaya smiled at the gentle vibrations of the tree beneath her as her mate climbed into the high boughs out of sight of the human man and moved to join her on the branch she was perched on. She felt the soothing brush of her daughter's youki against her own, the child wrapping her energy around hers in a way that felt as though they were holding hands, the silent communication soothing her. She met Satoshi's gaze, tears blurring her vision, and watched as a gentle smile tipped up the edges of his lips, her mate offering her a slow nod.

 

“No rabbit?” she asked quietly, keeping her voice a whisper.

 

“No,” he whispered back, a lopsided smile tipping his lips as he shook his head. “Vanessa found a friend,” he told her.

 

“A friend?” she asked, frowning as she shook her head, pouting curiously.

 

“You'll meet her,” he grinned. “We also found an abandoned hunter's cabin about a mile or so from here. It's been decades, at least, since anyone lived there, but it's got a stream full of fish running behind it, there's plenty of good rabbits and deer for hunting, and it's surrounded by dense forest that makes for a good cover. It's going to need some work before it's habitable, though. It's got a wood burning stove and a fireplace. I'll need to find the material to make a mortar, some of the bricks on the fireplace are loose, and it looks like there was once a cooking hearth built into one of the walls, but I can fix all that. I thought maybe you could work on cleaning out the cobwebs and seeing what's salvageable in the cabin while I teach Vanessa how to hunt and clean a kill. It should hold us for a while, a year maybe, as long as no one comes looking for it. I - Vanessa?”

 

Amaya's eyes widened as she looked at the branches around them, searching for her daughter. She could still feel her daughter's youki wrapped around her own, but she couldn't see her, and just as she opened her mouth to cry out, she heard her child's voice down below. A choked laughing sob came from her, her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound as she stared down at the ground below, her daughter's cherry wood hair shining in the sunlight. She frowned at the golden-brown bundle in Vanessa's arms, and turned her head back quickly to look at Satoshi, meeting his sheepish grin when he shrugged, before looking back down at their daughter.

 

And in that moment, she knew that the only reason neither she or her mate tried to snatch Vanessa away and run was because the man was human, and for all she could feel from him, she knew he wasn't dangerous. She knew that they had to offer just a little bit of trust to the human, no matter how much it scared them both to do so. The very last thing Amaya ever wanted to do was raise her daughter to fear the world. The very least she could do was teach her daughter how to trust a human.

 

“Why are you so sad?” Vanessa asked, and Amaya released a choked breath as she sat up, a tear rolling down her cheek at the innocence of her daughter's words.

 

The man turned his head to meet her daughter's gaze, his aura gentle and curious, even as Amaya felt the depth of his sorrow. “I lost my Ellie a year ago, today. She was everything to me,” he answered, his heavy tone sad. “That's a pretty tiny little baby bear you've got there,” he said, and Vanessa nodded.

 

“Her mommy wasn't moving, and she smelled bad,” Vanessa told him. Amaya sniffled back the sting of tears as she touched her fingertips to her lips, her brow furrowing as she released a broken sigh. “I can help you find her - your Ellie,” she offered as she adjusted her grip on the bear cub. “I know how to track.”

 

Amaya released a choked breath, leaning back when she felt Satoshi wrap his arms around her from behind, a tear rolling down her cheek at the innocence of her daughter's words. Her lips trembled as she smiled, felt the gentle pressure of her mate's kiss against her temple.

 

“Aw, little one,” the man said, clicking his tongue as he reached out, touched the cub's fur before tucking Vanessa's hair behind her ear. “My Ellie's gone away somewhere we can't go.”

 

“Like her mama?” Vanessa asked, bowing her head down over the bear cub she held.

 

“Just like,” the man answered sadly. “What color was her mama?”

 

“Dark like cinnamon,” she answered, and the man nodded. “I don't think Ellie would want you to be sad.” They were both silent for a moment, the bear cub offering a quiet whine as it moved, snuggling closer to Vanessa. “Did she like flowers?” Vanessa asked, and Amaya turned to look back at Satoshi, seeing the caution in his eyes, the bittersweet smile twisting his lips.

 

“Just a single white rose,” he told her. “That was all she ever asked for. She never wanted a lot, just one perfect rose.”

 

Vanessa hummed thoughtfully as she nodded. “Close your eyes,” she told the man. “Close your eyes and think of Ellie,” she instructed.

 

Amaya couldn't see his face, but she was certain the man had followed her daughter's instruction. She watched Vanessa kneel in the grass, holding the cub securely in one arm as she buried the fingers of one hand in the soil up to the first knuckles and closed her eyes. She could feel the rise of her daughter's power and closed her eyes as she reached out her youki to her child, offering the power to her, and felt her daughter respond. Amaya opened her eyes when she felt Satoshi move away from her, watching him drop from the tree silently to land beside their daughter.

 

He knelt behind her, his hands in the earth over hers. Amaya looked out toward the water's edge, watching as three winding green stems emerged from the ground, braiding around each other as they climbed higher before fusing into one single elegantly twisted stalk. The plant was a beautiful dark jade, the leaves glossy and wide, serrated along the edges with thin thorns beneath as though they were bracing them. She watched as it grew taller, small branches stretching out like arms, open and inviting. The top of the plant formed a twisted teardrop, the bulb becoming thicker, wider, until the green leaves parted, the flower blooming to reveal one perfect ivory rose.

 

She smiled when Satoshi looked up at her, laughing quietly when Vanessa moved closer to the human just enough to kiss his cheek before her father lifted her into his arms and sprang up high into the tree. Amaya laughed quietly as she sniffled, reaching out to touch the tiny cub in her daughter's arms, the bear almost half her daughter's size. She smiled as she nodded to Vanessa, watching her climb into her nest with the bear.

 

“Her friend,” Amaya said, turning to look at Satoshi.

 

“Her friend,” he affirmed, smiling as he nodded.

 

“My Ellie,” the man on the ground below said with a gasp, and Amaya felt the tears stinging behind her eyes spill over onto her cheek. “You sent me an angel. You really are okay. Oh, my Ellie.”

 

“Papa?” Vanessa asked quietly, her tone alarmed as she shook her head. “Papa, he smells funny.”

 

“I know,” Satoshi replied sadly, keeping his voice soft. “You gave him what he needed.”

 

“But he smells funny, Papa,” she argued, as Amaya bent over the side of the nest to kiss her daughter's hair. “Mama?”

 

“It's rare,” Amaya told her daughter as she looked down at the man beneath them, the scent of death growing stronger on him. “But sometimes, just sometimes, a human finds their true mate and follows them in death.”

 

“Why?” Vanessa asked as Amaya turned to meet her gaze.

 

“Because, my daughter,” she said as she smoothed the tears from Vanessa's cheeks. “A love that strong know no boundaries, not even death.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The possibilities were endless and in that moment all she wanted to do was jump up and scream. This was what she had been waiting for. As silly as it might sound, Gwen thought, the one thing she wanted more than anything was a way out. Her father had been the one to promise her adventures, promise her that if she put her mind to it, she could do anything. That book he had read to her when she was five years old - The Two Hundred Most Influential Women of All Time - there had been theologians, singer/songwriters, musicians, physicists, scientists, doctors, politicians, ambassadors, ballerinas, war heroines, artists, and so much more. That book had been proof enough that she could do anything she wanted. But in order to do anything she wanted, she had to advance in school.

 

 

“I'd be in high school?” Gwen sat back against the chair as she stared at the woman behind the desk with wide eyes. Her smile fell as her brow furrowed, her gaze dropping down to the top of the desk. “Four years of high school until I graduated, Dobby would only be eight - nine at the most.” She shook her head as she met Ammeline's gaze once more. “Once I graduate, it'll be expected that I go to college.”

 

 

 

Gwen sighed as she blinked the memory away and focused her gaze on the projection screen at the front of the class. Rolling her eyes as she rested her cheek on her balled-up fist, her elbow resting on her desk, she looked down at the paper she'd been writing notes on. She was beyond bored in this class, had already read ahead and had completed the homework assignments for the next three chapters, including the final paper. The only thing she had left to do in this class was take the tests and final exam. None of it was really all that hard.

 

When the summer brake came, if she wanted, she could take courses down at the community college. Typically reserved for makeup courses for students who hadn't been able to make it to all their classes or had failed enough to have to repeat their classes in order to move forward, Gwen planned to use the summer school courses to move forward in school without having to get her parent's approval to skip her grades.

 

That was the hell of it all, she thought as she glanced up at the analogue clock on the wall, wishing for the fifteen minutes she had left in the class to pass by quickly. As much as she wanted to jump forward all the way to ninth grade, to advance the way she knew she could, the cost to do so was too high. The choices weren't fair, not at all. In order to get what she wanted, she would have to turn her back on the ones she loved, the ones who had supported her. But in order to keep those same people in her life, she would be forced to disappoint them, to be less than what she was. Nothing in this world came for free, her mother had made that clear.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“But what?” the woman asked as she appeared in front of the camera, securing an earing in place. “You wouldn't have called me unless you had to.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gwen watched as her mother's expression turned from suspicious, to cold, to triumphant, all in a matter of seconds. “I'll sign the papers to grant your request to skip the grades, if . . .” her mother offered, stressing the last word to make it clear that there would be a cost to be paid for the request.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

`But it isn't just you that decision would hurt,' her conscience pointed out. `Cutting all ties with Ammeline and J.J. hurts Dobby, and it hurts them.'

 

`What do I do?' Gwen whispered back as though the voice in her mind somehow held the answers.

 

`The better question is, do you tell Ammeline about the offer your mother made?'

 

 

 

 

 

 

The ringing of the bell jerked Gwen out of the memory and she sighed as she cleared her desk, packing the notebooks and pens back into her school bag. That had been almost two months ago, she thought as she stood and swung the bag onto her shoulder. She still hadn't told Ammeline or J.J. that she had called her mother or the offer the woman had made her. How in the hell could she tell anyone about that? Saying it all out loud . . . it all just seemed cruel.

 

“Hey Carter.”

 

Gwen cringed at the sound of Jackson Pruitt's voice coming from behind her, narrowing her eyes at the boy's gloating tone. She kept her back turned to them as she continued walking down the hall toward her locker, refusing to give them any indication that she was listening to them. Giving them her attention had only served to add fuel to their fire and she was damn tired of getting burned. She honestly didn't care what they said about her, she could care even less when they spoke about her mother. The problem was, they knew that, too. They had kept poking at her until they found her weak spots - her brother and her dead father - and once they found out what made her tick, they hadn't stopped poking at her. Not once.

 

“Jackson,” Carter greeted his friend, their voices closer than before, and Gwen knew they were walking directly behind her. “My parents were fighting last night,” he said and Gwen released an inward sigh of relief. For once they weren't talking about her. “Seems my mom is absolutely convinced that my dad had an affair.”

 

“You're kidding right?” Jackson asked as Gwen stopped in front of her locker and dropped her schoolbag to floor before spinning the combination dial built into the door.

 

“Nope,” Carter replied.

 

Gwen frowned at the sound of his sigh. Why did it sound mocking? And why were they still so close to her? She just wanted to turn around and yell at them to go away but clenched her jaw as she refrained from doing so. The only thing that yelling at them would accomplish is letting them know that they were getting to her. Closing her eyes briefly as she opened her locker door, she withdrew the mathematics text book she needed and lifted her backpack up to rest on her thigh, her knee pressed against the locker beneath hers. It didn't take her long to open the bag and put the book inside it, removing the history text from her bag, she placed the book in her locker and shut the door, spinning the dial on the door to secure the lock.

 

“You're kidding?” Jackson said, laughing as moved to lean against the lockers beside Gwen.

 

She rolled her eyes as she swung her backpack up onto her shoulder, fisting her hand around the padded strap as she turned to walk away.

 

“Your mom actually thinks your dad was having an affair with Mrs. Dobson?” Jackson asked with a laughed.

 

`Tell me something I don't know,' Gwen thought as she struggled to ignore them. `Pretty hard to have any respect for your mother when you find other men's clothing in the house.'

 

She couldn't count the number of times she had found pink shirts in the kitchen, on the stairs, or stuffed behind the back of the couch. Her father had always worn earth tones - dark browns and greens and black, the occasional grey or dark blue, but never pink. It wasn't just the color that was wrong, but the size, too. Her father was well over six feet tall, whoever wore those shirts was smaller. Each and every time she found one of those horrible shirts, her father was always away somewhere else for work. There were times that she hated her mother, wishing for nothing more than for the woman to abandon her and her bother all together. At least if that happened, Ammeline and J.J. could adopt them for real.

 

“My mom said the only way that she knew Gwen wasn't his kid was because she looks too much like the Captain. But Dobby,” Carter said a little too gleefully. Gwen froze as she felt the hairs on her arms rise, the anger she felt warming her cheeks. “Mom says that he looks too much like Gwen and not enough like his mother.”

 

“What does that mean?” Jackson asked.

 

“What do you think it means?” Carter returned. “Gwen's as much a slut as her mother is, at least that's what my mom shouted. Dobby's Gwen's son.”

 

Gwen scoffed as she furrowed her brow, amused by her own disbelief. They couldn't possibly be that dumb, could they? Yes, she sighed silently to herself, yes, they could be. Most of the boys she knew in this school assumed that girls were born already able to have babies. Complete idiots, the lot of them.

 

“Who does she think the father is?” Jackson asked, and Gwen moved to step away.

 

“Does it matter?” Carter returned. “It's only a matter of time before they take him away. They'll never let her keep him. That's what my Dad said.”

 

Gwen didn't think as she turned around on her heel, her storm cloud blue eyes almost black, she was so angry. She should have walked away sooner, but she hadn't, and even if she had, she knew they would have kept following her. The thought of hitting them both was tempting, but she knew that they would just keep coming after her. In order to end their annoyance, she had to destroy them, and if there was only one thing her mother had ever taught her, it was how to destroy a person from the inside out.

 

“Carter,” Gwen said, her tone forcibly pleasant. “Perhaps, if your mother spent more time actually focusing on being a wife and less time trying to figure out what the latest gossip around town was, then your dad wouldn't have such a problem keeping it in his pants.”

 

“Oohhh,” Carter mocked as he held up his hands in defense. “Kitty's got her claws out. What are you gonna do little kitty? Hit me?”

 

“You're too stupid to learn anything from it, so why bother? It's a miracle you haven't been forced to repeat this grade, too. In fact,” she paused as she placed a finger against her lips in thought as she tipped her head to one side before focusing her gaze on him, refusing to let him look away from her. “How many grades have you had to repeat so far? Three, isn't it? That's why you're the oldest kid in your class. Not the tallest. Not the most popular, and most certainly not the smartest. You're just . . . the oldest. You're living proof that failure really does beget failure. I'm surprised your parents haven't put you in special ed classes, but that would require they actually paid attention to you. Lord knows that your mom sleeps around more than mine does, is there anyone in this town she hasn't spread her legs for?”

 

Gwen heard the sharp gasp coming from somewhere behind her but chose to ignore it. She was beyond done dealing with these two. If they wanted to come after her, she was going to make it clear exactly who they were dealing with.

 

“Well my father - “

 

“I really don't give a great goddamn what your father said,” Gwen cut Jackson off, turning her gaze on him as she ignored Carter for the moment. Crossing her arms over her chest, she narrowed her eyes and pinned Jackson with a malevolent grin. “It's no wonder you and Carter hang out so much together. Hell, I wouldn't doubt it one bit if you two were related or even related to some of the other kids here. It's clear to anyone in this town that your father likes to sleep around and there's more than enough evidence to give rise to the question of your actual paternity. Especially considering the fact that your mother sleeps around as much if not more than he does.”

 

Ignoring the voice in the back of her mind that was telling enough was enough, she kept going, kept digging as she struck them both deep.

 

“I mean, have you looked at yourself?” Gwen continued as though talking about nothing more important than the weather outside. “Dark hair, dark eyes, slightly more tan than normal complexion, meanwhile your mother is a blue-eyed blonde who can barely tan, and your dad's a redhead who's so pale he practically glows in the dark. You're someone's kid, all right, but definitely not both of theirs. That's why you're in so many clubs and after school programs. Neither one of them can stand looking at the mistake they couldn't take back. It's no wonder you're an only child. Hell, after that mess, how could they even be willing to trust each other, let alone stand to look at each other?”

 

She took in a deep breath as she watched Jackson's eyes cloud over and knew that she had hit him where it hurt. Turning her attention back to Carter, she eyed him up and down.

 

“Completely pathetic. You're not even worth my time, or your parents' time either as far as that goes. I hope you like being below average. Even your own family knows you'll never amount to anything. It's why they ignore you so much, sweetie,” she mocked him, watching as his eyes clouded over, too.

 

Both boys were ready to cry and she'd never even had to raise her hand, or her voice.

 

“Gwenhwyfar Dobson!” Ammeline barked, her voice full of anger. Gwen sighed inwardly as she narrowed her eyes “My office, now!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ammeline frowned as she looked up from the paper she was reading, the sound of the voices carrying down the hall toward her familiar. She knew the boy's voice - Carter Munsen. Not only was he one of the worst troublemakers the school had to offer, but he was also best friends with Jackson Pruitt, the boy who had saw fit to harass Gwen about her dead father a few months ago. Releasing a heavy annoyed sigh when she heard Jackson's voice speak next, she shook her head and stuffed the paper into the messenger bag she was wearing.

 

`They never learn, do they?' she thought with irritation.

 

“Oohhh,” Carter mocked as he held up his hands in defense. “Kitty's got her claws out. What are you gonna do little kitty? Hit me?”

 

`Ammeline,' her youkai-voice called to her with an air of caution.

 

`Son of a bitch,' she cursed, catching sight of Gwen's reflection in one of the classroom windows.

 

“You're too stupid to learn anything from it, so why bother? It's a miracle you haven't been forced to repeat this grade, too. In fact,” she said, the girl pausing for effect. Ammeline felt the growl building in the back of her throat as she. “How many grades have you had to repeat so far? Three, isn't it? That's why you're the oldest kid in your class. Not the tallest. Not the most popular, and most certainly not the smartest. You're just . . . the oldest. You're living proof that failure really does beget failure. I'm surprised your parents haven't put you in special ed classes, but that would require they actually paid attention to you. Lord knows that your mom sleeps around more than mine does, is there anyone in this town she hasn't spread her legs for?”

 

She should have picked up on the girl's scent sooner, she cursed herself, moving forward as quickly as she dared among the humans milling the halls. It seemed that both boys had decided to team up on Gwen this time and that was the last thing the girl needed. She had finally gotten Gwen to a point where she wasn't watching over her brother every single second, where she was actually taking time for herself and grieving as she needed to. And the thought of the girl going back into a defensive, emotionally closed off state made her proverbial hackles rise.

 

“Well my father - “

 

“I really don't give a great goddamn what your father said,” Gwen cut Jackson off, her steady voice only making Ammeline bristle as she rounded the corner of the hall to see Gwen facing off against the boys. Jackson and Carter were standing with their backs against the lockers, Gwen standing in front of them. “It's no wonder you and Carter hang out so much together. Hell, I wouldn't doubt it one bit if you two were related or even related to some of the other kids here. It's clear to anyone in this town that your father likes to sleep around and there's more than enough evidence to give rise to the question of your actual paternity. Especially considering the fact that your mother sleeps around as much if not more than he does.”

 

Ammeline's eyes widened as her mouth dropped open, her feet stopping of their own accord as she stared at the scene unfolding in front of her in utter disbelief.

 

“I mean, have you looked at yourself?” Gwen continued as though talking about nothing more important than the weather outside. “Dark hair, dark eyes, slightly more tan than normal complexion, meanwhile your mother is a blue-eyed blonde who can barely tan, and your dad's a redhead who's so pale he practically glows in the dark. You're someone's kid, all right, but definitely not both of theirs. That's why you're in so many clubs and after school programs. Neither one of them can stand looking at the mistake they couldn't take back. It's no wonder you're an only child. Hell, after that mess, how could they even be willing to trust each other, let alone stand to look at each other?”

 

 

`And I thought her mother was bad,' her youkai-voice said with disbelief. `She's not even trying to pull any punches at all. She's going straight in for the kill. Don't just stand there, Ammeline! Do something!'

 

`Who the hell is that girl?' she asked in disbelief.

 

`That's the girl her mother taught her to be,' her youkai replied with a sigh.

 

“Completely pathetic. You're not even worth my time, or your parents' time either as far as that goes. I hope you like being below average. Even your own family knows you'll never amount to anything. It's why they ignore you so much, sweetie,” she said, inflecting just enough of a purr into her voice to make her words sound soothing, and Ammeline knew that what she said would have a deeper affect on the boy because of it.

 

“Gwenhwyfar Dobson!” Ammeline barked, her eyes wide and full of anger. “My office, now!”

 

Gwen turned around to look at her, lifted her chin as she stared at Ammeline as though she were daring her to make a move. The short snarling bark that came from her throat wasn't what she had intended, but she watched as Gwen blinked and turned, walking in the direction of the administration offices, the girl seeming to understand the command issued in the canine language. It took every ounce of control she had not to slam her office door as she followed Gwen inside the room, keeping her back turned to the human child as she struggled to rein in her temper.

 

“What in the hell were you thinking?” she asked, her eyes closed and palm pressed flat against the door. Ammeline shook her head as she spun around, pinning Gwen with a disapproving stare. “We have talked about this, Gwen. You have to ignore them when they start up like that and - “

 

“And what?” Gwen snapped as she stared at her in defiance. “You think I didn't try that? I did! They kept going and kept following me and I was ignoring them just fine until they decided to start in on Dobby! I don't care what they say about me, but I will not allow them to run their mouths about my brother! He is off limits.”

 

Ammeline sighed as she walked toward her desk, lifting the strap for her messenger bag over her head as she moved, and set the bag on the floor beside her chair. Turning around slowly, she walked in front of her desk only to lean back against it and crossed her arms over her chest as she stared at the girl.

 

“I'm not your mother, so I can't make the decision to pull you out of this school and put you in another one. But that won't change the fact that there are bullies everywhere and eventually you will have to learn how to deal with them - without becoming the bully yourself,” she said. Bowing her head as she pinched the bridge of her nose, Ammeline nodded to herself and looked up. “As the school counselor, I do have to issue you detention for what happened out there.” She raised her hand to silence Gwen when the girl opened her mouth to protest. “As the person currently taking care of you,” she said as she moved to sit on the couch and sighed. “I am glad that you stood up for yourself and your brother, but I am not happy about the way you did it. Starting after school today, you are going to come to my office each day after school and I will drive you down to the station where J.J. and his team work. You'll help them with sweeping, cleaning, and anything else they need assistance with for the next two weeks.”

 

Gwen's brow furrowed as snapped her attention up to Ammeline. “But Dobby -“

 

“Dobby will be just fine,” she promised, forestalling any further argument from the girl. “I will pick him up from daycare and bring him back here to my office until I'm done for the day, just like I've been doing for the past few months.”

 

The young girl growled at her as she yanked her schoolbag up off the floor and threw it on her shoulder as she clung to the padded strap. “You're not my mother!”

 

“Perhaps not,” Ammeline said as she stared at Gwen, her gaze hard. “But in her efforts to do . . . whatever it is that she's doing, your mother listed J.J. and I as your temporary guardians while she's working in another state,” she reminded the girl, her tone daring Gwen to defy her. “Do I wish that I could remove you and your brother from that environment permanently and watch over you as J.J. and I promised your father we would? Yes. But I can't. For right now, Gwen, you are living under our roof and that means you will follow our rules. Your punishment stands.” Standing from the couch, Ammeline moved to her desk and withdrew a small pink pad from the top center drawer. Jotting down the girl's name, the time, and her own name and signature, Ammeline tore the top sheet of the hall pass off and handed it to Gwen. “Take this and go to your next class.”

 

Ammeline clenched her jaw to keep from hissing when Gwen tore the note from her hand, the edge of the paper slicing into her skin. Blowing out a heavy breath as she watched the girl leave, the door slamming behind her, Ammeline fell heavily into the chair behind her.

 

 

`All things considered?' her youkai remarked. `I think it went as well as could be expected. Well, Mom, congratulations. You've just had your first real fight with your human daughter.'

 

Ammeline rolled her eyes as she leaned her head back against the chai behind her. `If only I could make Gwen officially my daughter, I think it would solve a lot of these issues. Each time Patty deigns to show up and pretend to be a mother, she rips Gwen and Dobby away from us only to berate Gwen, and then leave them both again days - sometimes only hours - later. This kind of back and forth is only going to upset her more.'

 

 

Ammeline shook her head as she repeated the final assessment out loud. “Patricia Dobson has filed official documentation listing J.J. and I as the temporary guardians for her children while she is working in a location that prohibits her being home at the end of the day. As long as she returns to see her children at least once a month, and contacts them by phone or video call at least once every two weeks, child abandonment cannot be legally proven.”

 

`I swear, she only did that to screw with all of you and cover her own ass,' her youkai-voice scoffed.

 

“Preaching to the choir,” Ammeline said aloud as she reached for her cell phone. “Might as well tell J.J. the good news.”

 

 

 

 

A.N.: Dinadanvtli - Cherokee meaning “brother”