Dog Days of Summer (Damned of the 2/19th Book Four) - Finished

Formality

Back Woods
Lewis County, Washington State
United States of America
12 August, 1986
0130

The truck shuddered slightly as I hit the brakes, slowing down and coming to a stop in front of the old farmhouse. It was hand built, old logs, with more modern conveniences added on. The lights were on inside, I'd seen them come on when we had headed up the driveway after pulling open the heavy steel gate. On our right was corn, on the left was sorghum, all of it in neat rows. The barn was off to the side and I could see the tractors parked to the side of the barn.

I shut off the truck, climbing out and walking around to the other side. John and Nancy watched me from the back of the truck with three little girls bundled up in blankets as I opened the door and helped Gormliath out of the cab of the truck. The older woman gave me a smile as she took my hand and gracefully left the cab, for all the world looking like an Old World noblewoman.

"Follow," I told her, my tone harsher than I meant it to be. Gormliath's eyes glowed warmly at the tone though.

"Of course, Aodan," Her voice was still low and throaty, she was still in that weird docile thing that submissives seemed to drop into after sex and after they slipped back out of what Nancy had called 'sub-space'. Not that anyone had actually had sex with her. Nancy rubbing one out for her didn't really count, that had been more of a reward than anything sexual.

I wanted to go home.

We walked up the lawn and I could feel eyes on me from at least three points. The little lizard marked two shadows that contained men, and I knew the third was coming from inside the house. They weren't malevolent, just watching and waiting.

My boots thudded on the wooden front porch. There were two rocking chairs on the porch, both carved with the McCullen family crest, and I could see a can of pipe tobacco next to one of the rocking chairs. On the door was a heavy bronze knocker, hand crafted, nothing fancy, just a ring with a heavy bronze ball on the bottom of the ring. It was warm when I picked it up, and it thumped heavily as I knocked on the door three times.

...three times and my duty is done...

The door open to reveal a young woman about my age with honey blonde hair, bright green eyes, and a cupid's bow mouth. She had a light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose.

"Aodan?" She sounded startled.

"Yup," I said, nodding.

She looked past me and frowned. "Gormliath McDaurn," she snarled.

"Getchur mah," I snapped. "Ain't no time fer this here bullshit." I knew I was slurring my words again.

I had a slight headache that I couldn't seem to shake.

The girl stared at me for a long moment, then turned and waved us into the house. "Come in, it'd be rude to keep ya out thar in the cold."

The house was comfortable. Not too warm, not too cold, and smelled of old pipe tobacco, old meals, and strangely, pear candy.

"Have a seat," the girl said, motioning to the big overstuffed couch that had a hand made afghan on the back. "I'll be right back."

Gormliath smiled as she sat down, hands in her lap, back straight, legs together, looking as if she was wearing a ball gown rather than a nightgown and a robe.

"Thank you, McCullen," I said, "But I prefer to stand."

She ignored me and walked out.

I knew good and goddamn well her Aunt and her momma were in the kitchen, and more than likely there was a half dozen boys just on the other side of the doors armed with shotguns.