Spirit Storm (10 page)

“Cal, remember when you read that book on vision quests and we went looking for the perfect meditation cave?” I asked. “Your book made it sound wonderful and peaceful, but what they didn’t mention was it being dark, wet, and scary as Hell.” I shuddered at the memory. “I recall what it was like being inside the cave, probably scarred for life with that memory, but I can’t remember where it was. Can you?”

“Wow, I had totally forgotten about that day,” Cal said. “Hey, you broke all the rules.”

“Silly rules,” I said a little defensively. “Plus, you were the one that agreed to darkness, isolation, and fasting. Not me. I was just there for moral support and to run for help if you broke an ankle or something.”

Simon, who had been sitting quietly, started laughing. “You brought a girl into a dark cave, alone, and you purposefully ignored her and tried to meditate?” he said.

“Ignore him,” I said, rolling my eyes at Simon. “We need to figure out where those caves were.”

“I know just how to find out,” Cal said happily.

Cal ran to his parent’s house and returned with his old book on vision quests. While he was gone I studiously checked my pockets and ignored Simon.
Fortunately I had a lot of pockets.

“See,” Cal said, opening the book and setting it on the table. “There was a section for documenting your vision quest, but since someone distracted me from my meditation I ended up doodling a map to the cave.”

“Is that a pond?” I asked, pointing at a circular lumpy thing.

“No, that’s the cave,” Cal said.

“Is this a river?” Simon asked, pointing at a squiggly line.

“No, that’s the road, Cal said, sighing. “I guess I’ll be the one to read the map, since obviously no one else can make heads or tails of it.”

Simon and I looked at each other and laughed. Cal’s childhood artistic skills left a lot to be desired, but I didn’t doubt he could lead us to the cave. Just a walk along the squiggle and we’d be at the lumpy bump, aka the cave, where Sam may be waiting for us.
I guess we were going spelunking.

Cal grabbed a first aid kit and stuffed more items into the pockets of his hoodie. He was wearing low slung jeans that tugged even lower when he attached a coil of rope to his belt loop with a metal carabiner. I lost all ability to breathe as he reached into one of the overhead cabinets for a lighter. A few inches of tanned skin were peeking below his shirt and a curve of hip bone showing. He was, in a word, hot and I couldn’t help but notice.

Feeling my face turn bright red, I turned away and walked into Simon who chuckled. “Ready?” he asked.

My suddenly sluggish brain could not compute.
Huh?
Oh yeah, the cave. “Sure, I have everything I need,” I said, trying not to sound flustered.

“Are you sure you want to go with us?” Cal asked, looking at me steadily.
I hope I’m not still blushing.
“You could stay here and wait for our call.”

My head suddenly filled with the pungent smell of burning brownies. “No way,” I said. “I’m definitely going this time. I think I can use the strength of Gavin’s smell impression as a guide. If the smell gets stronger, then chances are we’re heading in the right direction.”

“We can certainly use your mad skills,” Cal said, moving closer, cupping my face and brushing his thumb along my jaw line. He kissed my temple then reached for the door.

“She also has every sodding flashlight we own,” Simon grumbled.

*****

When we reached the cave I stopped to send a text message to Emma with our coordinates. I wasn’t stupid. I’ve watched all of the horror movies and suspense thrillers. This is the part when the music gets ominous and you want to shout, “Don’t go in there!” because you figure no one knows where the characters are heading and their cell phones probably won’t get a signal underground. I figured by letting Emma know exactly where we would be, I was changing our luck.
A little reverse psychology on Fate can’t hurt, right?

I reluctantly handed one of my flashlights to Simon who immediately clicked it on. I guess werewolves don’t have perfect vision in the dark after all. Cal reached for a small flashlight he had stashed in his hoodie pocket and I turned one of my lights to the cave mouth. All three lights barely illuminated the inky blackness of the cave.

The opening was just large enough for Cal to walk upright. We could have brushed the sides of the cave walls with our fingertips if we extended our arms. I tried to fight down a feeling of claustrophobia. The increasing burnt brownie smell was making the small dark space feel all the more confining and I struggled to use my yoga breathing to stay calm.

“Sense anything?” Cal asked in a whisper.

“The smell impression seems stronger here,” I said, keeping my voice low. “I think we’re in the right place.”

“Aye, my wolf feels it too,” Simon said in a low growl. “The killer has been here.”

My heart sped up at the thought of sharing the darkness with a murderer and I felt a bead of perspiration slide down my spine.

“In Stygian cave forlorn,” I whispered.

“Milton,” Simon said, with what seemed begrudging respect. “A fitting passage. L’Allegro?”

“Yes,” I said, nodding and feeling gooseflesh on my neck. “Hence, loathèd Melancholy, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, In Stygian cave forlorn, ‘Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy.”

“Could you two not quote the creepiest lines ever?” Cal asked. “I just felt like someone was walking over my grave.”

“No talk of graves,” I said lightly.

“We can talk of shrieks and sights unholy, but not of graves,” Cal said. “Got it, my bad.”

I gave Cal a light punch on the shoulder and I could have sworn Simon rolled his eyes.

“Okay children, no time for stalling,” Simon said, loping forward.

Cal and I walked hand in hand with Simon in the lead. We kept our flashlights low to prevent stumbling over fallen rocks. A few times Simon got down on all fours to search the ground, one time even tasting the dirt, but he always conferred with us regarding my smell impressions before deciding on a direction to take. The deeper into the cave we went the more tunnels we found branching off. More than once Simon scouted ahead only to find dead ends.

As we turned down a new tunnel Simon raised his hand for us to stop. The smell of burning brownies nearly knocked me over. Cal squeezed my hand and cocked his head to the side as though listening for something. Simon too seemed to be listening intently, but motioned for us to proceed slowly. Inching forward I began to hear a faint thumping. Just as I was about to ask the others if they heard it too, Cal turned and whispered in my ear.

“If you quote the Tell-Tale heart, I may shriek like a girl,” Cal whispered softly.

Now that he mentioned it the sound did resemble a heartbeat.
Great, like this place wasn’t spooky enough.

Cal squeezed my hand and we continued forward. When we rounded the next bend in the tunnel Simon rushed forward to a heap of clothing on the floor. But that wasn’t exactly right. The pile of rags was the source of the pounding sound.
Oh God, had we found Sam?

Assaulted by burnt brownie smell, I hesitated before entering the larger space, but Cal, in his eagerness, led us forward.

“He’s alive!” Simon exclaimed, turning to us with relief in his eyes, but his face quickly turned to horror followed by rage.

Suddenly the hand that Cal held was left outstretched, naked in the cold emptiness of his absence. Cal was tumbling on the floor, someone, or something, on his back. The cave echoed with their growls and the light of my flashlight streaked over their bodies as they rolled and clawed with inhuman speed. Startled by Simon’s wolf form as he joined the melee, I watched seconds, that felt like hours, pass in the still frame flashes of a child’s flipbook.

The snarls and growls were being steadily replaced by the roaring in my ears.
Probably going into shock
, part of my mind worried, but there was no room for concern for myself. My entire universe consisted of flashes of Cal, my soul mate, struggling to fight a deranged killer. I could reach out and touch him if they would only stop moving with such deadly swiftness.

For a frozen moment Cal was flying through the air, his body thrown, and the roaring in my ears was replaced with a sickening crack as his head hit an outcropping of stone.
No. Please no.

Running to Cal’s side I touched his face with a shaking hand. Cal’s eyelids fluttered briefly at my touch, but he lay where he fell, his head against a large rock. A line of blood was running down over his right eyebrow to pool in the crease of his eye before traveling over his cheek to drip from his chin. I didn’t look behind me at the continuing fight, but I wondered who, or what, could be making that horrible shrieking wail.
Oh, that would be me.

Tearing my gaze from Cal’s unconscious face, I scanned the room desperately looking for some way to help him. A blur of movement caught my eye and I watched as Simon grabbed his assailant’s hand in his sharp toothed mouth. With an explosion of fur his opponent shifted to wolf form. The man’s transformation left him momentarily vulnerable and Simon pressed his advantage. Simon pounced onto the wolf’s back, gripping its neck between his teeth.

A small smoldering voice inside me was glad to see the monster who had injured Cal, and murdered and kidnapped members of his pack, receive retribution, but my heart knew how very wrong that voice was. When Simon and I locked eyes, I shook my head no. I still wasn’t able to speak, but my message was clear. Another death wouldn’t make this situation any better. In slow motion, I removed the coil of rope from Cal’s belt loop and carried it to where Simon was holding the wolf. I tied his forelegs and hind legs with numb fingers, then stepped away as Simon shifted to human form. Taking a piece of shredded clothing he tied a muzzle around the wolf’s snout.

Shredded clothing?
Oh yeah.
Simon had transformed mid-battle shredding his clothes as he shifted into wolf form. I pulled off my hoodie, tossing it to him, and looked around for something more helpful. My hoodie would be really, really short on him. I limped over to the pile of clothes in the corner, but jumped back when it groaned.
Son of a dung beetle.
I had forgotten all about Sam during the attack. He seemed to be buried beneath a pile of clothing, so I grabbed a pair of shorts and tossed them behind myself.
Hopefully Simon puts them on.

Pulling away more of the clothing I could see Sam’s frightened face. He was staring straight ahead with sightless eyes, groaning, and pounding on the stone floor. That must have been the thumping sound we heard before. Sam was in shock, or worse, and didn’t respond when I whispered his name. I left a bottle of water near his hand and dragged myself back over to Calvin.

Blood from Cal’s head had run down to soak his shirt and I belatedly remembered the first aid supplies he had shoved in his hoodie pockets back at the cabin. I carefully reached into his pockets, hands shaking, and found a bag filled with gauze pads and an ace bandage. I pulled a pack of tissues from one of my pants pockets and gently wiped away the blood on his face and head. There was already a large bump forming with a cut in the center. There was a lot of blood, but the cut didn’t look as bad as the bump. Peeling off the wrapper, I placed two gauze pads on the gash and wound the bandage around his head to keep it in place. I whimpered in frustration when I realized I didn’t have a way to fasten the bandage, but just as I was about to break into sobs I saw dim light shine on the safety pins I had attached to my arm warmers. I would have laughed about MacGyvering the bandage, but this was no time for laughter.
I may never laugh again.

Cal’s face looked so pale. Think Yuki, think. I needed to call Emma. She could bring her medical supplies. Emma would know what to do.

“How is he?” Simon asked as he knelt beside me. He was wearing the shorts, but not my hoodie.

At least he’s wearing something.
“He…he hit his head,” I said, my voice raspy. How long had I been screaming? “I thought I heard something…crack when he hit the rocks. There’s a cut and a nasty bump. I wrapped it with gauze, but he lost a lot of blood.” My voice quivered as I said “blood” and I closed my eyes. I could feel my lips shake as I drew in a calming breath. “Sam looks like he’s in shock,” I said. It was easier to talk about a stranger. “I left him a bottle of water, but he just sits there staring into space and pounding the floor. I…I can’t imagine what he’s been through.”

“It’s all right,” Simon said, soothingly. “Everything will be all right. We heal faster than humans, so don’t worry about that scrape. I’m more worried about the bump, but I’m sure he’ll be fine with some rest. Sam too. Were you hurt?”

Simon looked at me intently and I realized I was covered in blood. Not my blood, Cal’s blood.

“I’m okay,” I answered. “None of it is mine,” I said, gesturing to the blood. “I was just about to call Emma.”

“Good,” Simon said, nodding. “Tell her to bring a stretcher if she can get her hands on one. A backboard with neck support would be even better, but she needs to get here fast. I’ll meet her at the mouth of the cave.”

Great, that leaves me alone in the dark with a trussed up murderer, an incoherent boy in shock, and Cal.
Cal who won’t wake up.

Emma will know what to do. Maybe she has a tea that cures head wounds. I speed dialed Emma and prayed that Cal would be okay.

*****

Emma arrived in record time. Or maybe it just seemed that way. Everything was a blur. She assessed Cal’s wounds first, and with Simon’s assistance, secured him to a backboard. They wrapped a foam cervical collar around his neck and Emma placed a poultice on his head wound. She explained why, swelling or something, but my mind wouldn’t focus. I kept replaying the sound of Cal’s head cracking as it hit hard stone. I may have teased Cal about having a thick skull, but now I hoped that it was true. Peeling his eyelids back, Emma used my flashlight to check his pupils’ response to light. After checking Cal’s vitals one more time she turned her attention to Sam.