Last Chance (DarkWorld: SkinWalker Book 3) (2 page)

All Walkers have a special place to bury their dead. Living in the world of humans, the only safety we had against prying eyes was the ownership of private land. As such, every Walker town would have a special burial ground. Whether they be within mountains or beneath the ground, they were all lead-lined to hide the contents and the entrances were all so well hidden you’d only know of its existence if you’d been shown. And as a rule, no human was ever shown the entrance to our mausoleums.

And now, for the first time, I wondered how that rule applied to Mom.

When the gathering moved to the roadside, only immediate family, elders, and the priestess completed the procession. The cart rolled back and forth on spindly wheels, then began to move, drawn by my father and brother. I followed, giving Logan and my friends a weak wave.

“We’ll wait for you at the house,” Lily whispered as my heels scraped the hard-packed soil of the path.

The procession moved slowly, far too slowly for my liking. To be honest, I just wanted it over and done with so I could get back to my normal life. Grams moved silently beside me, sending waves of jasmine in my direction. When she glanced at me, she threw me a soft smile, her blue eyes darker than the clear azure sky above us. But behind that comforting smile, I could see a hint of resignation with a touch of determination added in for good measure. I sighed and trudged along. If Grams could see it through, then I bloody well could too.

We walked together, following the rugged road deep into the forest of birch and ash whose branches rose high above us but blessed us with ragged patches of golden light every few meters. I had to admit no matter how much I wasn’t enjoying the walk, the trail through the forest was utterly beautiful. The very nature of it made my panther purr inside me. I pushed her back down and walked on until eventually we moved off the dirt track and into a clearing that seemed to appear out of the forest like magic. We’d reached the base of the mountain at last. My feet were thankful.
Someone please remind me why in Ailuros’s name I thought heels were a good idea.

Someone up ahead would have pressed his hand against the plate hidden behind a fall of creeping ivy, because suddenly stone scraped and ground against stone. Then a large rock shifted aside to reveal the entrance to the burial cave. The threshold was wide enough to accommodate the wheeled carriage, allowing it to pass through comfortably. We followed it inside, and still none spoke. The last of the group stepped farther into the cool interior, and the door grunted and groaned shut.

For the briefest moment, we were plunged into solid darkness so thick it felt I was breathing shadows into my lungs. Seconds later, lights began to pop and flicker. Small electric lanterns, strung high upon the stone walls, lit the whole entrance up in their stark light.

The Tukats burial grounds was made up of a warren of caves leading off a long central corridor and organized according to age of family. Each individual room backed onto solid stone, allowing the family to dig deeper into the mountain to expand their space should they expand their families. Many of the older families had caves within caves allocated to them. It all tended to get a little complicated, so I’d only ever concentrated on the Odel tomb.

The carriage wheels turned as it traveled to the farthest end of the passage, the thin wheels rolling along the stone floor. As the solemn procession moved into the shadowed depths, I followed, my heart thudding against my ribs.

Ours was the very last of the caves, as befitting of the oldest family in Tukats. The men prepared to remove the coffin from the carriage and the priestess fussed around them, wanting to ensure they didn’t damage the fragile carvings. She needn’t have bothered. The men, two others including my father and brother, were accustomed enough to funeral preparations as to take the required care with the coffin. Etina was just a fusser.

They slid the coffin off the wooden base of the carriage, then lifted it by the carved metal handles. The pallbearers hefted their burden through the entrance to the Odel burial chamber, finding the empty spot beside my uncle Niko’s coffin. Despite the deeds of his troubled lifetime, they had accorded him the position in death that had always been allocated to him. He lay beside his father, my grandfather, late husband to Grams, who stood silently beside me. Everyone within the community had access to the burial caves, many coming and going as they pleased, but I knew Grams hardly ever visited. I’d never understood her reluctance until now.

The walls exuded a deep cold that did nothing to counter the icy fingers of grief. Although I wasn’t mired deeply within the grip of mourning for Greer, I could understand the need to have someone make you feel better. And this cold, underground mausoleum certainly did nothing to help. If anything, it made me feel a little too closer to death than I would have liked. I moved toward Grams, happy to feel the warmth of her arm as she drew me closer.

In that moment, I missed Mom so badly that I felt the stab of longing deep in my gut. It hurt, and hot tears filmed my eyes. I blinked them away and just in time, as Iain and my father joined Grams and me. The rest of the townspeople who’d accompanied us to the burial grounds moved to position themselves behind us. Etina walked silently to the head of the coffin, a sensor swinging from her hand, her skirts rustling. Ribbons of white smoke streamed from the gleaming brass container, curling and spiraling upward until they dissipated above our heads.

The scent of incense softened the icy air, and I felt the tight fist in my gut release its hold on me.

Etina spoke about the eternal quality of the soul and how the ones we lose are never truly gone. I almost believed her.

I recalled the way Greer had retreated into the light, how it had felt so right, as if she were returning home. Or was it perhaps the expression on my sister’s face? One I’d never seen before.

Peace.

***

We were gathered in my father’s lounge, the fire crackling merrily away despite the warm sun outside. Once we’d returned, the Odel family had been banished to the lounge to visit with their friends and wind down. Friends of the family took over the kitchen and food duties, and trays of sandwiches and pastries were brought around by people I barely recognized. Their faces revealed no judgment, maybe a little sympathy, but not even a hint of curiosity about the specifics of Greer’s death. Dad and Ian as well as Logan and Omega had actively ensured the details would be kept under wraps. That didn’t mean the people of Tukats were ignorant of my sister’s relationship with Niko and his Pariahs, or that they would be ignorant of Greer’s relationship with Brand. People talked and Walkers were just like humans when it came to gossip.

But not one of them would ever ask me directly. I still stood apart from the Walkers I’d been raised among, and even knowing the reason didn’t ease the niggle of unhappiness inside my heart. Half-breed. That’s what they were all thinking. But if that mattered to me, then I’d have to question my loyalty to Mom, something I simply wasn’t capable of.

I shifted in my seat and studied my friends. A Fae, a Djinn, a Fire Mage, and a lynx Walker. What an interesting circle of friends I’d joined to my heart. It wasn’t often that Corin Odel’s house contained this many non-Walkers, and I knew this time tomorrow, the Tukats’ gossip mill would be having a field day.

I felt the heat of the fire on my right, my cheek now uncomfortably hot. My fingers fiddled with crumbs and the oily tissue that remained on the empty plate on my lap. Lily and Tara were talking in low voices beside me, and I caught snatches of their conversation. Something about a jamming safety lock and poison bullets that got repeatedly stuck in the chamber. Salem and Logan sat on the couch opposite me, seemingly in deep conversation. But even while he interacted with the Djinn, Logan never stopped watching me with those deliciously dark eyes. He caught my gaze and gave me a small smile, and I understood his reluctance to come too close to me. The Tukats community wasn’t without their own prejudices, and I knew despite the well-meaning words and polite social behavior, my friends would have been given the whole outsider treatment. And Logan wouldn’t do anything to make it worse for me. I was gripped by the urge to grab him and kiss him senseless right in front of all the prying eyes and judgmental gazes.

But I maintained control of my urges and got to my feet. “You guys want some fresh air?”

They rose in unison, and I hid a smile. They were as eager as I was to get out of the room, now suffocating with heat and curiosity. Heads turned, drawn to our sudden movement. Dad looked up from a conversation with Iain. They both stood beside the fire, the golden light dancing on their fair hair. Our little family was now balanced between the dark-haired and the light. I blinked, pulling myself up short. What a horrible thing to think about right now. All the stress of Greer’s death and the funeral must be turning my brain to mush.

I stuck a thumb in the direction of the patio doors and they both nodded. They knew where I would take my little party.

I headed to the glass doors, unlatching one and walking out into the sunshine. The afternoon was cooler now despite the warmth of the sun. Nobody spoke as I hurried out onto the lawn. A little gazebo sat at least a hundred yards from the house. Painted white, it was octagonal in shape, with four thresholds and four windows. A pillar marked each point of the eight sides and was now overgrown with a creeping white rose. Little white buds peeked out from the sea of green leaves and branches. Once inside, we all burst out laughing. The space wasn’t big enough to fit five adults all standing.

I sighed and sank onto the nearest window seat. “This used to be my most favorite place in all the world.”

“I can see why,” said Lily as she took one of the seats opposite me. The strong warmth beside me made me want to smile. Logan sat next to me, his long legs stretched out in front of him. There was barely enough space on the seat to fit two people, but we seemed to manage well enough. Lily stared around at the creeping roses and the flaking paint. “Did your dad build this for you?”

I shook my head and almost bumped my forehead on Logan’s chin. “No. This place was built for Greer. When she was six, she wanted a tree house. Dad, of course, was reluctant, but Mom had liked the idea. Eventually, they came to a compromise. A gazebo would do just as well, where it was nice and safe on the ground. But Greer was the only one who wasn’t satisfied. She was never the compromise sort, and once it had been built, she barely gave it a glance. It eventually became the place I would go to have a quiet moment. Somewhere I could hide away with a book.”

The day Mom left, I’d been reading in the gazebo, a daisy-chain crown draped on my head. I’d heard a door slam and glanced up to see Mom getting into her car. Dad was standing on the porch, his hands hanging at his sides as if he had no idea what to do with them. The look on his face had chilled my blood, and when I looked back at Mom, I’d known something was wrong. Her eyes gleamed with tears and she’d swiped at them roughly before peering down at the keyhole to start the engine. Once she’d gunned the engine, she released the brake and drove off without a backward glance. The wheels had skidded, spitting gravel, and I remembered the empty clacking sound of the stones as they were thrown around in the wake of the disappearing vehicle. Later, I remembered wondering if that had really been the sound of the stones. Because I was sure it was the sound of my heart shattering.

“So how you holding up?” asked Logan softly.

I glanced at him, met his eyes, and smiled. I wanted to run my hands along his cheek, to hold him and thank him for being so kind and attentive. “I’m fine. Really, I am.” I fell into silence, my thoughts returning to Greer.
It wasn’t as if we were ever as close as sisters should be.
Logan shifted and I looked up. From the looks of all the faces around me, I knew what had happened. “I said that aloud, didn’t I?”

Saleem’s eyes twinkled, and both Lily and Tara nodded. Tara had an odd look in her eye, as if she were worried about me but was trying not to get too suffocating with her concern.

I raised my eyes at Tara in question, and her features relaxed a little. “Kai, you do know you don’t have to have a close relationship with a family member to mourn them.” I nodded. “Because that’s what I think you’re doing. You’re stopping yourself from mourning her because you think you have no right. Because you weren’t close or because you were so different from each other or because you never clicked.”

I sighed and leaned against Logan. “I know, but somehow I seem to keep doing it to myself. Even when I feel like crying, I just feel like a fraud. Why do I deserve to cry for a sister who I never really cared for?”

“But was that really all that true?” asked Logan as he gave me a squeeze. I craned my neck to look at his face. “You said in the end it seemed almost as if she cared. And maybe she always had, just never really knew how to show it. Just because you didn’t have the perfect-world relationship doesn’t mean you weren’t sisters. She was your family. And now she’s gone and it’s okay to mourn her. Nobody will judge you for it.”

I stiffened a little, but Logan didn’t move away. I didn’t want him to either. He was right. They were all right. I’d been doing this to myself all along. Making myself feel like I had no right to mourn her loss. Missing her or reminiscing about good times would be a lie. But mourning her wasn’t. “Why does everything that goes on in my head have to be so darned complicated?”