Lifebound Page 6

  “Sure.” Ben passed it over.

  “Where are we going?” Telly asked.

  “We aren’t going anywhere,” Josh said. “I’m going for a ride. Later, guys.”

  He pushed away from the boys, glad that they didn’t follow. The narrow paved paths led in a variety of directions. He chose the one that headed away from the rest of the guests and their activities. He pushed faster down a trail winding away from the chateau and through the garden. He ignored Dana’s greeting as he passed. He traveled through a wooded dell and past an open field.

  Next he passed a low metal building that had “Wolf Den” painted on the side in various colors of spray paint. The windows were barred.

  Farther in, the sound of a stream beckoned him ahead. The pavement ended at a rocky cavern at the base of a tall nearly sheer fifty foot cliff that stretched as far as he could see through the trees growing to either side.

  He picked up the board and walked closer to the cavern’s entrance. The stream poured out of the mouth of the cave with room to walk past it on either side. He reached down to the water, and to his surprise, it was warm. A hot spring?

  He stood back from the cliff’s base and looked up. Yes, the face was nearly vertical, but there were handholds. He tossed down the board and began to climb.

  The events of the past few days receded in his mind as more important things grabbed his attention—where was his next fingerhold? Would he be able to reach that ledge? Could his hip take this stretch up to the next toehold? The physical activity took over until he was nothing more than a climbing machine.

  Vaguely, he was aware of the colossal stupidity of his choice to climb the cliff without helmet or gloves or climbing shoes or a partner or belay gear or any of the accoutrements that marked his usual climbing expeditions. Hell, he didn’t even have a bag of trail mix.

  However, none of that mattered. Right that moment he didn’t care if he reached the top or if he fell to his death. All he cared about was the climb. While he was climbing, he couldn’t think about anything else. While he was climbing, he was free.

  His hip moved well and bore his weight admirably, better than he expected for the first two-thirds of the way. That last stretch, however, was another matter.

  The handholds grew scarcer and he methodically checked his ascent path for alternate routes to the top. Maybe if he shifted a few feet to the right, he would find more accommodating structures.

  The next few feet went better until he reached out for a narrow ledge, only to have the handhold shear off in his fingers, throwing him off balance and shifting all his weight onto his injured hip in a painful bind.

  “Damn it!” He sought another hold to relieve the strain on his leg. Finally, his fingers caught on a new crack in the rock, and he pulled as hard as he could to adjust his position.

  What the hell was he doing? He only had about eight more feet to reach the top, but he was exhausted. His injured leg trembled beneath him and his fingertips were practically numb. He was bleeding in several places where his knees and elbows had scraped the rock face.

  He pressed his cheek against the cold stone wall, feeling its gritty roughness beneath his skin. Adriana’s face rushed into his thoughts. What if he never saw her again? What if he dropped out of her life just like dropping off that cliff?

  His cool detachment collapsed upon itself. His muscles began to shake uncontrollably and his breath came in panting heaves as panic took hold. In that instant an unspeakable terror gripped him, a terror of losing everything—not just his life but his future, a future he hadn’t even known existed until her. If he dropped off that cliff, she’d never know. Adriana would never know his last thoughts had been of her.

  With a grunt, he forced his body to the next handhold, then the next, hauling himself up the last few feet of that wall in a dusty, bloody burst of energy and iron-willed determination.

  At last, he dragged himself over the edge onto the grass and lay there, panting. The sun hung low in the sky as he pulled to his feet and looked around. Behind him, the chateau stood in the distance through the trees, the afternoon light glinting off the diamond windowpanes.

  The island was much larger than he’d originally presumed. A large heavily wooded forest stretched into the distance. The best way back down the mountain would be to cut across the island and toward the beach.

  He traveled the top of the cliff face for at least three miles, intrigued that the sheer drop continued in a long unbroken line, possibly to the edge of the island itself. It made a formidable barrier between the forest and the chateau, almost a natural fence line.

  This fence line wasn’t such a bad idea. Odd noises rustled in the woods beyond, whispers and calls from animals that didn’t sound familiar to him at all.

  He’d spent a lot of time on the cement of skateparks around the world, but he’d grown up in the Deep South where time in the outdoors spent hunting and fishing made up a young man’s rite of passage. He’d also climbed some of the most rugged peaks in the country, living through encounters with everything from mountain lions to rattlesnakes to bears.

  But the shapes that darted through the woods on the edges of his vision didn’t match anything he’d ever seen before. From a nearby branch, a squawk pierced the air, and what appeared to be a two-headed parrot darted away in a flurry of red, blue, and gold feathers.

  Shaking himself in disbelief, he kept walking, but only as quickly as his now-aching leg would carry him.

  He was an idiot. He was an idiot for climbing that stupid cliff and he was even more an idiot for running. Whatever was up with Adriana, he wanted in.

  Maybe she had some kind of strange condition, like those people who took too many silver supplements and turned gray. Maybe he had some kind of brain malfunction that made him hallucinate and faint when he was around her. Or maybe he was on some kind of strange drug trip from those damned candles Sage kept burning in his room.

  Come to think of it, the most likely scenario was that he lay in a Mobile hospital in a coma from when he fell and busted his hip. He’d probably busted his head too, and now he was dreaming this incredible dream. Adriana was probably the ICU nurse taking care of him. He just needed to wake up and ask her out.

  A heavy thud and grunt from the forest diverted his attention. He turned. A large shaggy animal plodded out of the woods. It looked like some kind of lizard in the face, maybe a komodo dragon. But its massive body belonged to a heavyset African lion, mane and all, ending with a scorpion’s tail.

  “What the—”

  The thing leaped toward him. He turned and ran as fast as he could. Even in some kind of coma-induced dream he absolutely did not want to get caught by that monster. The ground vibrated with its heavy steps as it came for him, its breath a hissing snort that drew closer and closer. His hip screamed in agony as he pushed himself even harder, trying to stay out of the reach of those massive paws with their three inch claws.

  Out of nowhere ahead of him, a black and silver blur tore across the grass and bowled into the monster behind him. The beasts slammed against one another so close that the claws from one of the two creatures tore across his shoulder as they tumbled to the ground. Josh rolled away from the snarling animals, the bleeding gash on his shoulder on fire with pain.

  The black and silver tiger pounced onto the other creature, its paws pinning the thing down firmly as it growled menacingly in its face. The lizard-lion whimpered a little and rolled to its feet submissively as the tiger let it up. It walked away, head low, like a whipped dog.

  However, the giant black tiger swung its head toward Josh and looked him straight in the eyes.

  “I don’t believe this,” Josh groaned. “Were you saving me for yourself? I promise you I won’t taste good.”

  The tiger’s form rippled and solidified into the very familiar and disconcertingly naked f
orm of Rekkus.

  “No,” Rekkus laughed. “You’d be tough and stringy.”

  Chapter Eight

  Josh staggered back a step at Rekkus’s appearance. His weak leg gave way on him without warning, sending him to the ground on his rear, pain shooting across his back from the burning claw marks. He sat there for a few moments trying to rationalize what he was seeing as the big man walked a few hundred yards back the way he’d come.

  Soon, Rekkus returned with a backpack. He pulled out his trademark jeans and black T-shirt, along with a pair of shoes, and dressed. “It’s a pain to have to carry a backpack in my teeth, but better than having to walk back naked. I didn’t think you’d be up to having a tiger escort.”

  He tied his shoes, then helped Josh from the ground. “Adriana is worried sick about you. Just what the hell possessed you to climb that damned cliff?”

  Josh gave Rekkus’s outstretched hand a long, suspicious look. “You’re a tiger.”

  “Weretiger, to be more accurate.”

  “Shit,” Josh sighed. “I took a harder blow on the head than I thought. I’m not just dreaming. I have gone completely insane.” He took Rekkus’s hand and allowed his delusion to pull him from the ground. It couldn’t hurt to play along.

  As they walked back to the beach, Rekkus explained the basics of life at Wiccan Haus. He was a weretiger. Cyrus, Cemil, Sage, and Sarka were all magic users of various persuasions. Myron was precognitive, and the deck of cards served as her tool of choice.

  “Myron was the one who told us where you’d gone and that we’d better hurry after you,” Rekkus said. “That manticore is a cranky bastard on a good day.”

  “Manticore?”

  “Well, technically a sauroleon, a subspecies of manticore. One of many exotic animals that have found refuge in our wilderness preserve. Usually the cliff face is plenty of barrier between the forest and the rest of the guests on the island.” Rekkus eyed him sharply and frowned. “We’ll have to be sure we keep a closer eye on any other ninja warriors who show up here. Which brings me back to my question. What the hell were you doing?”

  “Losing my mind, apparently,” Josh said. “Now I’m walking back to a haunted castle with a guy who’s part Englishman, part panther.”

  “Welshman and black tiger, thank you very much.”

  “Whatever.” Josh waved his hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter because I have clearly lost my fucking mind. I am probably drooling out of the corner of my mouth in the brain-trauma unit at Mobile Infirmary Medical Center.”

  “How does that explain anything?” Rekkus said. “How does it explain how real everything feels? How does it explain how bad that gash on your shoulder hurts? I know it hurts because it’s bleeding like a son of a bitch.”

  Josh kept walking.

  Rekkus stopped him with a hand to his arm. “How does that explain how you feel about Adriana? How could she possibly be a dream? How could she ever be something you just made up?”

  Josh squared off against the big part-Welshman part-black tiger. “Then tell me what is going on with Adriana. Tell me why you won’t let her touch me.”

  “You ever heard of a lamia?” Rekkus asked. “Maybe read Coleridge’s poem ‘Christabel’ in college?”

  “No time for college. I got my GED results while I was at the X-Games—finished high school early so I could skate full time,” Josh shook his head. “So I never heard of a lamia.”

  “Well, they don’t like this label, but it probably is the easiest to understand. Lamia are like energy vampires. Instead of drinking blood, they drain life through their touch. That’s how they survive, by exchanging energy with their host.”

  “So you think Adriana is trying to drain my life?” Josh asked in disbelief.

  “We think she’s doing everything she can to keep from draining your life. As long as she can keep the contact under control, she can exchange energies back and forth with her host without hurting either of you. In fact, there are huge benefits to being a host. Lamia exchange life energy for creativity and inventiveness. Some of the world’s most productive and influential people have been lamia hosts, even though most had no idea they were.”

  Josh frowned. “Adriana’s last boss was Tom Bridges. He pretty much fits the bill of inventive.”

  “Tom Bridges had been Adriana’s host for nearly ten years. He was her first assignment out of finishing school,” Rekkus said. “His death was very hard on her. She came to Wiccan Haus to recover and try to find a way to exist without taking another host.”

  The path turned to follow the beach, complete with boat docks in the distance.

  “Did she love him?” Josh asked.

  “I think he was like a father or a mentor to her. Like most hosts, he never knew what she was or that he was also providing an anchor for her energy needs. He also never knew that the incredible innovations he’d given to the computing world had been sparked by the creative energy she boosted back into him.”

  “Can anybody be a host?” Josh tried not to sound too curious.

  Rekkus walked out onto the sand and gazed out over the ocean. “The lamia and the host have to be compatible. From what I’ve seen, you two burn like a house fire. Compatibility is not a problem. When I first met Dana, I knew I’d found my mate. Weretigers mate for life, you understand. But I didn’t want a mate. I fought against it because I knew what it meant.”

  Josh looked at him and nodded. “Maybe Dana wasn’t on the same page. Maybe the ‘for life’ thing only went one way.”

  Rekkus smiled. “Exactly. I knew she was interested in me, but asking her to commit literally until death was another thing entirely.”

  “How about Dana’s people? What are their customs?” Josh asked as they headed down the path again.

  “The customs of the East Coast elite are mysterious and hard to fathom. Dana is a human from Martha’s Vineyard. There’s nothing paranormal about her.” His eyes misted over. “Except her…well, never mind.”

  Josh wondered exactly what he meant by that, but judging from the way Rekkus shook himself as they passed the herb garden, he decided he didn’t need to know.

  Rekkus continued, “The situation you would find yourself in as Adriana’s host is different though. She’d have to touch you—”

  “I’ve got no problem with that,” Josh interrupted.

  Rekkus stopped again and put out his hand to keep Josh from continuing down the path. “Listen to me, Josh, this is serious. There’s a fine line between too much and not enough where a lamia is concerned. She’d have to touch you, but only enough to keep herself balanced and keep you alive. Too long, and you’re over the edge. Can you do that? Can you keep your hands off her except for just a few seconds at a time? Can you be with her constantly and not give in to the temptation to kiss her, to hold her? And when you push her too far and she can’t stop, she’ll kill you. Then she’ll hate herself for the rest of her life for killing the man she loves.”

  A shiver ran over him. The man she loves. Could he be that? Could he be everything she needed? He had to try.

  “There’s more to love than sex,” he said at last.

  Rekkus stared at him and blinked, then laughed out loud. “I’m impressed. I can’t believe you actually said that.”

  Josh laughed too. “I can’t believe I actually meant it.”

  Adriana watched Josh walk into the front lobby with Rekkus, her heart torn by the sight of him. He was dusty and bloody and limped as badly as he had when she first saw him.

  “Myron, is Sage around?” Rekkus said. “We need her to take a look at this manticore slash on Josh.”

  “I’ve already sent Cemil after her.” Myron flipped over another card. Then her face clouded. “I’m going to get Sarka to look at it too. Manticore claws are pretty nasty.”

  Every nerve in
Adriana’s body screamed to throw her arms around him, to pull him tightly against her chest and never let go. But she made herself stop with only a brief touch to his dusty cheek. The back of his shirt bore a huge ragged hole, and a deep gash ran eight inches across his shoulder blade, oozing blood. “Are you okay?” she asked him. “Just a little while after you left, Myron came running upstairs saying you were in serious danger. I was scared out of my mind.”

  “Sorry about that,” he murmured. “I think better in action, and I had to go think a minute.”

  “You had to go think?” She took a step back, her hands on her hips. “How did you get hurt so badly thinking?”

  “I did most of my thinking climbing that rock wall behind the cave where the hot spring is. It was a little tougher climb than it looked. Then there was that big forest full of weird animals and that lizard-lion thing that tried to eat me before Rekkus here came barreling out of the trees in his supergiant black cat form.” He frowned and swayed on his feet. “I need to sit down.”

  He fell into the nearest seat and stretched his leg out in front of him, rubbing at his hip and thigh. “I think I overworked it.” He looked around and added, “All of it.”

  Sage came running into the lobby with her arms full of herb packets and candles.

  “Oh, no.” Josh held out a hand and attempted to get up to stop her. “No more candles, damn it. I’m tripping enough as it is.”

  Sage glared at him and shook her head. “All right, no candles. But I’m drawing up a bath with these herbs in it and you are going to soak that gash for at least an hour, do you understand me?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Josh grinned.

  Sage flipped her long blond hair over her shoulder and headed upstairs.