Snow Heart (3 page)

Nonetheless, Nieves scratched him on the head, a little while longer before heading home to face the hot-headed Boris. She would like to gauge his eyes out but that would be too gruesome of a task for her. In fact, despite her bold character, Nieves was rather reserved and quiet. She didn’t like attention and preferred to spend her time alone—maybe with a black Labrador as company.

All the lights in the house were off, Nieves noted as she headed down the path completely unaware of any form of danger. To her, danger was simply a word in the dictionary. She had lived her life side-by-side with agony that it had become a background noise.

Nieves overlooked its fearful attitude and opened the front door. There was no Boris inside—or his wife. The place seemed rather calm as she flicked on the entryway lights. Even as Nieves called out, “Anyone home,” the house seemed empty.

A thin man, rather lanky, stepped out from behind Boris’s wife. At the tip of his nose rested a thin frame of glasses—his green eyes were starring out at Nieves. His tanned skin went rather well with his light blonde hair.

The girl took a step backwards out of the house and onto the porch. She hadn’t even been able to blink when the man leapt forward and snatched hold of her thin arm. He was so fast she had hardly seen him move.

He could have snapped Nieves’s arm like a toothpick with how large his hands were. “Alric is in need of your presence.” This character seemed to have no expression—like Botox, Nieves considered mildly.

But her humor was quickly consumed with fear.

“Alric?” blurted Nieves. “Why the hell should I see him?”

The man made no reply. He tossed the fragile young lady over his shoulder and carried her into the darkness of the night. The companion that had followed her home had vanished. And as Nieves called out for Boris’s wife’s help she wished the Labrador had stayed to rescue her.

†

“Let me go,” Nieves screamed, pounding her fists against the man carrying her.

His strength never faltered and his expression never changed—not once. He carried her all the way to Alric’s house, the main house as it was called, and threw her onto the floor of Alric’s room. Alric, standing over Boris’s quivering body, looked at Nieves emotionlessly—not at all bothered.

A growl slipped through Boris’s lips as he leapt like an animal towards Nieves. He was ready to wrap his hands around her neck when Alric lifted his hand—he simply lifted it—and Boris was on the floor howling in pain. His body writhed until his back arched over the floor with the agony.

Nieves gasped while leaning away from the screams.

Alric threw his hand aside and Boris went flying through the open shoji door to the rock garden. His body fell like a rag doll into the sand—tumbling and sliding.

Boris laid there for a moment, panting with the release of pain. “Alric,” he muttered the name like a prayer. “Forgive me of my sin.”

Alric lowered his hand and the paper door slid closed. The thin Head Macter disappeared from sight as if the shadows had consumed him in a single bite. In fact, the entire room seemed swallowed by shadows.

Alric wasn’t at all enjoying her happiness. “You are obviously too dimwitted to realize how powerful I am. I have this entire establishment kneeling at my feet. Yet, you—you and your smiles and laughter—how dare you enter my lands and think you can be happy here?”

Nieves shrugged a shoulder—careless of what he said. “I’ll be leaving in a few months anyway.”

“That is not the point!” Alric growled and the room went icy cold.

Nieves bit back her words of hatred—she was too kind hearted to yell at him though she had every right. For some odd reason, Nieves felt sorry for the arrogant and heartless Alric.

The Head Macter lowered his head—a thick darkness looming over his eyes. “I will make you endure our torture,” he whispered. “It is only fair.”

Nieves got to her feet. “No. I won’t let you hurt me.”

The young master wasn’t used to being told ‘no’. His anger accumulated to the brink of overflowing from the sides of the cup. “Boris’s torture is nothing compared to mine. You know nothing of suffering. I have lived with this curse my entire life.”

Nieves was just about to say something when a black shape leapt through the hole in the rock garden’s door—a hole Nieves hadn’t noticed until now. It looked as if something had leapt through it previously.

A low growl—animalistic in every way—grumbled from the shadow’s throat.

Alric didn’t even bother turning his head to the creature. He simply narrowed his eyes with irritation and stood there, arms hanging at his side and patience running thin.

The shadow barked—a sound familiar to Nieves that drove away her fear.

“Sneeuwbal!” Nieves didn’t wait even for a quick-breath’s moment. She ran right to the shadowy black dog and hugged him lovingly.

Sneeuwbal barked a deep sound then nudged Nieves to the door—its silent words quite understood. Nieves escaped through the paper door out into the rock garden. She crossed the sand in a quickening stride, not pausing for a second—not even to look at the lifeless Boris. She forced her way through the thorn bushes and coarse tan grasses. She ran as quickly as her legs would carry her—all the way to the darkness of the forest where she never stopped to look behind her.

Sneeuwbal had given her the chance to escape.

The soft padding sounds behind her stomped against the dead leaves from the season of autumn. Its breathing was heavy as it ran to catch up with Nieves—panting and lunging forward. Sneeuwbal was at her heels giving raspy huffs of air in its forceful running.

Nieves felt like her legs might snap under the pressure of running—leaping over the fallen logs and ducking beneath the low branches.

Sneeuwbal let out a bark of encouragement. “Keep going,” he seemed to yell.

†

Rusuto let out a long over-exaggerated sigh.

“Shut up,” Dan muttered, his arms folded across his chest in a way to appear bad-assed. Dan was all about appearing much stronger than he was—it was the way he gained his confidence after all the suffering he’d been through. Mostly, he did it for Angel—the most important person in his life.

Angel began giggling softly—she was taking the sheets off of the line after letting them dry in the warm sun. Leaving them out at night would only cause them to gain water from the midnight dew.

“Why are you laughing?” asked Rusuto jokingly.

“Well,” Angel replied, folding the sheet in her hands and placing it into the basket. “I’d like it if we could go with you to the lake this weekend.”

Dan groaned. “Great. Now you’ve got Angel complaining.”

Rusuto smirked as Dan headed for the door. A deep bass bark stopped them all in their tracks—breathing ceased, smiles faded, and attention turned to the thick bamboo forest lining the east side of the house.

The young and jolly Angel jumped at the chance—she raced to Rusuto’s side and linked arms with him. “Ooh. We’re going into the spooky forest at night.”

Rusuto laughed, patting Angel paternally on the head. “I’ll protect you.”

“What?” barked Dan. “I’m going with you.” There was no way he’d leave Angel alone with Rusuto—not because Rusuto was dangerous but because Dan didn’t want any other man alone with her.

“We’re here,” Rusuto told the dog.

Its black coat shined mystically as it let out a bark and darted between the bamboo poles. It raced forward, stopped and barked over its shoulder. “Come with me,” it told Rusuto. “She needs the help of her own kind.”

Angel nodded her head and Dan gave a pouting look, crossing his arms as if he didn’t want to be there, in the bamboo forest, in the first place.

Rusuto kneeled down next to the girl’s icy cold body—he couldn’t tell if her skin was naturally pale or if she was dying. He picked up on the sound of her heartbeat and relaxed. She wasn’t dying, at least. He could tell she was gaining a fever and it would need a doctor’s help.

He looked over toward the waiting Dan and Angel—the black lab had disappeared into the shadows of the bamboo forest.

“Is it okay?” asked Angel with concern.

Rusuto didn’t bother responding even though he was smiling about it. He gathered the pale, unconscious girl into his arms and carried her past his waiting children.

Angel, as usual, was intrigued while Dan was reserved.

†

“Wilhelm,” Rusuto greeted. “It’s your old friend.”

The doctor took a while to respond and then finally said, “Hello, Rusuto. Is something wrong with Dan or Angel?” The doctor seemed disengaged.

“Oh, yes,” Rusuto said, nodding his head subconsciously. “Angel has come down with a terrible fever and she could die at any moment.” Rusuto, as usual, was overdramatic but Wilhelm had grown used to his tendencies.

Before Wilhelm could protest Rusuto was dropping the phone onto the receiver. Dan and Angel could be heard bickering upstairs. Rusuto, wishing to join in on the fun, headed up the steps to the bedroom.

“She doesn’t need that,” Dan hissed.

Angel gave a stubborn growl. “Yes she does. The poor girl has a fever.” She slid a wet cloth over the girl’s head, patting it neatly into place.

Dan huffed as usual before catching sight of Rusuto. “Hey, old dude, is she part of our family or not?”

Rusuto smiled, sitting down on the opposite side of the girl. “No, I am afraid this young lady is not a part of the Macter family. However, we will show her generosity.”

“What?” barked Dan. “She shouldn’t even be here.”

Angel smacked Dan across the arm. “Can’t you see she’s sick?”

“Sick or not, if Alric finds out we’re housing someone who isn’t a part of the family,” Dan argued, “then it’ll be our asses in the fire.”

“Dan, don’t curse,” Rusuto prompted.

Taking orders was Dan’s least favorite hobby. He got to his feet grumbling under his breath. “I’m heading to bed.”

“I’ll stay up with you,” Angel told Rusuto as Dan was heading down the hall to his room. “She is so beautiful.” Angel ran her fingers down the girl’s smooth face. “Alric would take one look at her and be awed.”