Beast in Me (The Divination Falls Trilogy) (12 page)

Chapter Twenty-one

‘Boys,’ Sheriff Slaughter nodded as Father Finn poured him some coffee.

The way he said it and the way he smiled said he knew. Cam looked around and realised
everyone
knew. The father was smiling, Eliot was smiling, Luke walked in and took one look at him and smiled. Hell, Tryg, the gruff lion he hadn’t seen since the library, even laughed.

Trace looked at Slaughter and then to Eliot. ‘Oh, don’t you too laugh. I have a nose like no other, remember?’

Eliot turned six shades of tomato and Cameron bit back a laugh. He nudged Trace with his knee. ‘Be nice.’

‘Thank you, Cameron,’ Father Finn said, handing him a mug with steam rolling off the top. ‘Save an old priest from being the only one to remind folks of their manners.’

Trace growled low, but it was a playful sound. He took his normal seat and kicked the chair closest to him out for Cameron. For some reason, even that small, simple public gesture made his heart knock in his chest. Trace wasn’t keeping him a secret. He was acknowledging this … Whatever the hell
this
was.

‘Hungry?’ Father Finn asked.

More than half the room was comprised of shifters, so the resounding answer was “
yes
”.

‘That’s what I thought,’ Father said, cracking a full dozen eggs into a huge, brightly striped mixing bowl. He beat the bloody hell out of them while the Sheriff pulled up a seat.

‘What do we think? About today?’ he asked in general.

‘Any change at the library?’ Trace asked. He took a big swig of his coffee. Cam couldn’t help but wince. He knew how hot the liquid was.

‘None. Crack’s still there. No bigger, no smaller. We can still hear things on the other side and, once in a great while, see them. The only difference, of note is they seem to be testing the crack.’ Slaughter blew on his coffee.

Cam felt a spiral of cold fear in the pit of his stomach. The sheriff was afraid. It was clear by his mannerisms, the way he looked almost defensive.

‘Testing it?’ Cameron asked. Suddenly he wasn’t so hungry.

‘Sometimes it gets … shaded? Covered. For lack of a better word, it’s as if they’re pressing their
appendages
to the fissure. At first we kept thinking the crack was about to close when we saw that happen. Then someone realised they were testing it. I can only assume to see how strong or weak it happens to be.’

‘Great,’ Trace grunted. He turned his surreal eyes to Eliot. ‘And none of your hoo-dooers can do anything about it?’

She cleared her throat but gave him a small smile. ‘My
hoo-dooers
, as you call them, have tried every spell there is – banishing, binding, protection, sealing … Nothing is working. It doesn’t make the situation worse, but it does nothing at all to fix it either.’

‘I’m afraid that if they get wind of us, that they realise we might be just bigger, tastier versions of Mathilda the chicken, we are – pardon me, Father Finn – fucked.’ Slaughter ran a hand over his face. Cameron realised how tired the sheriff looked. He hadn’t noticed it at first but now it was clear.

‘That’s my fear too. Especially after yesterday,’ Eliot said. Her big, blue eyes settled on Trace. ‘It had you. It was probably planning on you being the luncheon special until …’ She gave a nod to Cameron. He felt himself blushing.

‘Right. I’m pretty sure that’s true,’ Trace said. He drank down the rest of his coffee and Slaughter passed him the carafe. ‘I am a pretty tasty morsel.’

Across the room, the lion choked on his coffee and Luke patted him on the back. ‘Not as tasty as you, lover.’

‘Rabbit,’ Tryg groaned, clearly embarrassed. Which was not what Cameron expected of the tall, gruff man at all.

Luke caught the look and smiled at Cam. ‘He calls me Rabbit.’

Before he could stop himself, Cam answered, ‘And he calls me Lightning Boy.’

Trace threw his hands up. ‘And she calls him Snookie!’ he said, pointing to Eliot and Slaughter.

Eliot laughed. ‘Not quite.’

‘Can we get on with it?’ Father Finn asked, pouring the eggs into a heated skillet. He started to scramble while staring at them all as if he were presiding over recess. Which he sort of was.

‘My opinion as the new, mysterious person that so many of you thought could help …’ Cam petered off and sipped his coffee.

‘Yes?’ Eliot prompted.

‘I think we go to Batts Dunn’s house and go inside. If he’s not there and no one’s seen him, Sheriff Slaughter could declare him missing and enter, fearing harm might have come to him.’

Sheriff nodded. ‘I can do that. But what do you think about Batts? That it ate him?’

‘Maybe, I don’t know. Doesn’t anyone around here ever get hunches?’

‘Most of us are animals on the inside,’ Trace said, patting his hand. ‘We live on instinct.’

‘Well,’ Cameron said, pinning him with his gaze. ‘What’s your instinct?’

‘That you’re right,’ Trace admitted.

‘Then that’s good enough for me,’ Sheriff said. He started to stand.

‘Oh no you don’t, Samuel Slaughter. You’re going to eat first,’ Father Finn said, plunking a pan of eggs down in the middle of the table along with toast and bacon that had been crisping in the oven.

Slaughter stared at it all. They all did. Every one of them practically salivating. ‘Have I mentioned, Father, that I love you?’ the sheriff said.

Eliot rolled her eyes. ‘Is
that
all it takes?’

When Slaughter went to swat at her bottom with his big hand, she dodged it, dancing out of the way and laughing.

‘Now my spidey senses are off the charts. And not in a good way,’ Trace said, pushing Cameron behind him.

Cam had to agree, but the move on Trace’s part – that gallant act of protection – had him smiling like an idiot. ‘It feels weird, doesn’t it?’

‘It does,’ Slaughter agreed, moving forward to rap sharply on the door with his nightstick. He caught Cam looking and smiled. ‘This is about all the use it gets. I’ve only used it … Well,
never
, actually. We tend to be good talkers.’

‘Probably because they could rip each other to shreds if they wanted,’ Eliot said. All eyes turned her way and she laughed nervously. ‘Sorry. But, you know, it’s sort of true.’

Slaughter rapped again and called out, ‘Batts! Batts Dunn, it’s Sheriff Sam Slaughter! I wanted to talk to you, Batts!’

Rap-rap-rap
against the window. It was starting to grate on Cam’s nerves.

Nothing.

‘How long are we going to give him?’ Tryg asked. The lion was pacing along the side of the house, pausing to sniff and occasionally listen. He pressed his face to the window and tried to look in. In his profile, Cameron could really see the lion resemblance. The man had a rough and authoritative beauty. One glance at Luke showed him how in love he was with his man. His face looked damn near ecstatic just watching his lover. Cute. Cam found himself envious. He turned to find Trace watching him and his face went hot.

‘Not long,’ Slaughter said.

One more series of raps and they all waited.

‘OK, that does it for me,’ Slaughter said. He pulled out a lock pick set and squatted down. His knees let out twin reports, cracking when bent.

‘Jeezaloo, Sam,’ Eliot said. ‘You need to take that fish oil I gave you for your joints.’

‘I’m a bear,’ he grunted, working the pick. ‘I just
eat
fish.’

‘Not enough to get all those Omega 3s.’

‘I eat tons of fish.’ He sighed, his tongue moving to roam along his bottom lip as he tried to pick the lock.

‘You’d need to eat barrels of fish a week to match those pills. Do you eat barrels of fish, Sam?’

He stared at her, open mouthed. ‘Are we really having this conversation now?’ he asked.

She blinked. ‘Sorry.’

‘If you took your fish pills you’d have the strength to pick a lock,’ Trace joked. ‘May I?’

‘I was about to break the lock,’ Slaughter grunted.

‘Just let me try.’

Cameron watched him as he squatted in front of the lock. Three quick movements with his wrist and it opened. They all heard the audible click of the mechanism yielding to Trace’s ministrations. Cam knew how that lock felt. He knew what Trace could do with those hands.

‘And here we go!’ Eliot said. She started forward, but the sheriff blocked her way.

‘Wait up. We don’t know what’s going on here. I’m first.’ He took one big step inside. ‘Everyone stay here until I give the all clear. Do you understand?’

He was met with a bunch of grumbles and glares but they all agreed. Cam moved closer to the door but didn’t cross the threshold. The longer he stood here, the more uneasy he was. His skin felt as if it was crawling.

‘I feel it too,’ Luke suddenly said.

Cam blinked, not understanding at first. ‘What?’

‘I feel it too. The unease. Yours and the general air of it around here. Something is not right. Not good. But I told you, I just kept getting images. Nothing definitive. Nothing that helps me or us in any way.’ His lips were pressed into a tight line. ‘It could mean damn near anything.’ His frustration was palpable.

‘Um … guys?’ Slaughter called.

‘Yes, Sheriff?’ Cam called back.

‘Y’all better come on in now. It’s all clear. Batts isn’t here.’

Cameron’s stomach clenched and, despite being surrounded by others, he briefly took Trace’s hand and squeezed. He simply needed the contact. To his surprise, Trace squeezed back and walked through the door with him. The gruff custodian he’d met had morphed into a man who seemed to have no beef with holding his hand in front of others. Cam let a wave of gratitude wash over him as they stepped into Batts’s darkened house.

‘All the blinds are down. All of them,’ he whispered.

‘Why are you whispering?’ Trace smiled at him.

The smile gave him a little strength. ‘It feels spooky. When I’m spooked, I whisper.’

‘Oh.’ Trace gave his hand another squeeze. ‘Where are you, Sheriff?’ he called.

‘Back in the den. Keep coming straight. It’s at the end of the hall.’

‘It’s like a funeral procession,’ Luke said behind them. Tryg grunted, but said nothing.

‘Don’t say that,’ Eliot hissed.

‘You can feel it too,’ Luke mumbled. ‘You’re like me, a sensitive. You can feel it, I can feel you …’ He chuckled. ‘There’s a lot of feeling going on.’

‘Even I can feel it,’ Cameron whispered, ‘and all I do is randomly shoot lightning out of myself.’

Trace laughed. ‘Speaking of which, you seem to have a little bit more control of that now, or is that just my imagination?’

Cameron hadn’t thought about it, but Trace was right. Much less random eruptions of electricity. He’d only had Brother Lightning make an appearance yesterday when distressed over Trace. It had come through him when his emotions got high, and for a damn good reason.

‘Cat got your tongue?’ Trace pulled him down the hall a bit faster.

‘I just realised you’re right.’

‘Lightning Boy, I’m always right,’ he said and winked. Then they moved into the den where Slaughter stood and their eyes adjusted to the gloom. ‘Well, shit,’ Trace said.

‘That about covers it,’ Luke said from behind them. 

Chapter Twenty-two

‘So do we think Batts knew about the monster?’ Slaughter laughed.

‘Sam.’ Eliot sighed.

‘Sorry. You have to have some dark humour here, El. I mean … Jesus.’

They all stepped forward. Almost as a group, as if that could keep them safe from what they saw. ‘Everywhere,’ Cam breathed.

‘I mean …
everywhere
,’ Trace echoed.

Cam reached to touch one of the sinister sketches and Slaughter tsked. ‘No touching,’ the bear said.

‘Sorry.’

‘This is it, right?’ Eliot pointed to a sketch that depicted what was a very large octopus on first glance. A longer glance showed an elongated head – almost alien in nature – and razored tusks like an elephant on steroids. The sketch was done dark and heavy, as if Batts had been moving fast and pressing hard when he’d drawn it.

‘Looks like it,’ Trace said. Only Cam felt the brief and instantly repressed shiver work through the wolf. ‘It was hard to get a lot of details up close and personal. You know, like
maw
kind of up close and personal. I do believe that before Cam struck with his lucky lightning bolt, I was holding onto one of those tusks for dear life. It’s hard to shove something in your mouth when it’s holding onto you.’ He tried to laugh but it died on his lips.

Cameron squeezed his hand again and studied another picture. ‘This one is different. The thing in this sketch shows something with wings and talons and, if I’m not mistaken, a stinger.’

Eliot moved up to study it. ‘I remember Batts saying something weird had happened after the first quake. But when I asked …’ She shrugged. ‘He blew it off. Said it was settled.’

‘So he saw his own bleed-through and then visited the falls and found –’

‘His lord,’ Sheriff Slaughter growled.

Cam’s head shot up and Eliot hurried to the sheriff. ‘What do you mean?’ Cam asked.

‘His lord,’ Eliot echoed, pointing to a sketch.

‘Jesus,’ Trace said. ‘Batts was always a little …batty.’

‘Eccentric. Creative,’ Eliot said with a sad smile. ‘I had even forgotten what an artist he was.’

At first glance he just saw the cluster of drawings on one wall. But when Cameron really looked around they were peppered everywhere. A sketch there by the lamp. One taped to the window sill. A sketch done directly on the back of one window blind. A huge one painted in what appeared to be oils. It was a red, black, and ochre rendition of the monstrosity that had tried to eat his lover.

He shivered and Trace shocked him by curling an arm around Cameron. ‘I mean, how do you fight something like this?’ Cam breathed.

‘I don’t know, but you’re not the answer. Not any more,’ Trace growled. There was no room for argument in his voice.

But I am the answer. Somehow …

Cam left that part unsaid. No reason to fight. He felt he was right, but hoped he wasn’t.

Eliot’s gaze found him and he felt Luke watching him too. That alone told him he was the answer. They felt it as surely as he did. He just had no idea
how
he – a man who had basically no control over his “gift” – could help them.

‘It speaks to me all day,’ Slaughter said.

They all looked his way, curious. The sheriff pointed to the wall and said, ‘Notes.’

‘What? He’d lost it,’ Luke said. ‘And I just referred to him in the past tense.’ The empath ran a hand through his thick hair, making it stand on end.

‘Because he’s gone,’ Eliot said, bending to touch a T-shirt folded atop a basket of clean laundry. ‘We can feel it. Batts isn’t here any more.’

Slaughter cleared his throat and resumed reading. ‘It speaks to me all day. It calls me in my dreams. I take it gifts – offerings. It’s of the water just like me. We’re brothers. Not in form or in strength. He’s bigger than me, stronger than I could ever hope to be. He is my Lord and I bring him whatever I can, willing to give him anything. Everything.’

‘Well, that’s peppy,’ Tryg snarled.

‘Jesus. He was feeding it, it sounds like,’ Luke said. ‘And then …’

‘It ate him,’ Trace said. ‘Guess it started feeling peckish, because then it tried to eat me.’

‘Don’t remind me,’ Cam said.

‘So I guess we need to get the whole damn town together,’ Slaughter said. ‘The able bodied ones at least, and tell it like it is. Then we need a game plan. Magic isn’t working. We keep having the tremors.’

‘They’re from him,’ Cameron said, nodding to the sketches. ‘He’s making the town shake to open cracks.’

Slaughter nodded. ‘Every time we tremor we have a new bleed-through. Nothing we’re doing is working. We need all hands on deck and all minds together to figure out what we can do.’

Eliot stepped up to the wall, so close her nose was almost touching it. ‘He seemed so lonely from reading these,’ she said, her voice breaking a bit. ‘Poor Batts.’

‘Yeah, well, if we’d known we could have gotten him some company,’ Trace said. ‘But not this kind. Him being lonely and – no offence – sorta fucking nuts, it seems, has us sharing the town with some company I don’t think many of us really want to have. The kind of company that looks at us and sees one big smorgasbord.’

‘This is all from Malus being here when we arrived,’ Luke said, softly.

All eyes turned his way. Cameron watched Tryg pull him in and wrap a protective arm around his waist. ‘Don’t go that way, Rabbit. That band of loonies was here before us. We simply showed up after the fact.’ The lion sounded frustrated and sad.

‘And you helped us get rid of them,’ Eliot piped in.

‘Maybe I could go,’ Luke suggested. ‘After all, I was in the falls when my throat was cut. I have some of its energy in me –’

‘No fucking way,’ the lion snarled. ‘We’ll have to figure something else out.’

But as they’d all talked, Cameron had been thinking it over and he thought he knew what needed to be done. He just couldn’t tell anyone. Not even Trace.

Slaughter was bellowing into the megaphone, ‘I don’t know what we’ll do, but I wanted the town here for two reasons. To witness what it is we are dealing with, and to understand we do feel this is the nucleus of the issue. The germ of the problem, if you will.’

Cameron watched the townsfolk milling around. Most peeking over the edge into the choppy water that was fed with the swift-rushing falls.

‘We also want you all to take this in –’ Slaughter swept his hands toward the falls where the thing lurked. So far it had refused to even show a surge of water as it moved. That made Cameron more nervous. ‘In case you feel you know, instinctively, what we can do. Any questions or suggestions see me or Eliot.’

More milling about, then Trace was right up against him whispering in his ear. ‘You OK?’

‘I’m fine. I’m just … It’s smart, Trace. It’s lying low. It knows we’re here and it’s not showing its hand. It’s one thing for it to be big and disgusting and hungry – and dangerous – but it’s another for it to be intelligent and all those things.’

Trace grunted, his eyes studying the water he’d been in just yesterday. ‘What a fucking week.’

‘Indeed. Last I looked I was rolling down here and still smoking from a lightning strike.’

‘Speaking of –’ Trace tilted his head toward the sky. ‘You seem to be … levelling out. If that’s the right word.’

‘I guess. It doesn’t just come and strike whenever. But it’s still there.’

‘Thank fuck,’ Trace said. ‘Or I’d have been fish food. OK, underwater behemoth food.’ He grinned and gave Cam an affectionate one-armed hug.

Molly was in the crowd. The woman bobbled along toward Cameron and he couldn’t help but watch her and see it. Ostrich.

‘Is she still upset about that chicken?’ Trace asked.

‘Yep. Poor woman.’

‘How frightening,’ she said before she’d even reached Cam. ‘How terribly frightening. Are you still thinking, young man, that you can help?’

More than I can even comprehend. Cameron put on a smile and said, ‘I sure hope so.’

‘Unfair to lay it all on him,’ Trace said, his voice a shade too gruff.

‘Oh, I agree, Trace Robertson. I think we all need to do this together.’ Molly, sounding so proper and formal by using the wolf’s surname, preened slightly, fluffing her dramatic sleeved tunic and brushing invisible debris from herself. ‘I agree. We need to do this as a town. How can one young man fix all this nonsense? If only we hadn’t had that open door policy. If we’d have run them off when they arrived –’

‘We have an open door policy to travelling shifters, Molly,’ Trace said. There was more patience in his voice than Cam would have ever expected.

‘Oh, I know,’ she said, brushing at his sleeve. ‘And we need to be that way. We really do. But my goodness, in this instance I wish we’d had more sense and just … broken the rules!’ She threw her arms up.

Cameron couldn’t suppress a smile and Trace failed too. ‘I know, Moll. I know. I agree.’

‘Well, I’m going to wander about and brainstorm. And stay
very far back
from that water,’ she added. ‘Be safe!’ Her command was one to be obeyed – period.

‘What was that?’ Trace asked as soon as she was gone.

‘What was what?’

‘You hesitated,’ the wolf said. ‘Look, it’s been less than a week since you got here, but I have to say, you’re pretty easy to read. You know,’ Trace whispered directly to Cameron’s ear. It made Cam’s skin feel hot and tight. ‘To the person fucking you.’

Now his skin was hot because he was blushing. He turned to answer and that’s when the world shook and water flew and someone cried out.

There was dead silence for barely a heartbeat and then someone yelled. ‘It took him! It took Richard!’