Blood of the Hunt

Blood of the Hunt - Chapter 3

Mark stretched his arms out on either side of his body and brushed his hands slowly through the blades of grass in his backyard, feeling the tickle along his arms and relishing the simple pleasure as he looked up at the night sky and sighed. The cooler evening air kissed his bare chest to trace along the old, faded rune scars, and the more ragged scars from the darkest part of his life. He breathed deeply, pushing those memories away. He found the brightest stars above him and named them mutely, reverently.

Cristina. Lucas. Micaela. Esmeralda.

A faded plastic jungle gym in the corner of the yard stood as a silent sentinel over his nightly vigil, and a few toys dotted the lawn, discarded for the day. He made a mental note to put them away for the girls before Cristina got home from her late shift on patrol and was displeased. He secretly enjoyed the nights when he had to make dinner and put the kids to bed. He had come a long way from pudding-slathered toast with Pepsi-chocolate milk-sour cream milkshakes. It had been years since he'd given Cristina good cause to exclaim, "¡Qué desastre!" Well. About dinner, at least.

He allowed himself a small smile as he remembered those days. Sera's coming had unlocked many things from the past that he had thought would be buried forever, as if her brightness had burned away a dark film over his memory. She had woken up a part of him that had lain carefully dormant, so much so that he had even answered the horn's call when it had drawn him to the hills near Ojala. Until then, it had been like half of his mind had been asleep, uncaring and unfeeling, to protect the rest of himself.

Another old memory sent a flash of heat through him as he remembered blue-black hair spilled carelessly over a pillow years ago in a comfortably-mussed bed, and he heard Kieran's achingly familiar voice in his mind.

"Come with me, then. Stay with me. I saw the look on your face when you saw the horses of the Hunt. You would do anything to ride again."

Mark had been furious back then, still too new to what it had meant to be Unbound, and he had hissed back defiantly, "Not anything."

And then Kieran's excited response as he had caught hold of Mark's shirt and locked eyes with him: "There. Be angry with me, Mark Blackthorn. Shout at me. Feel something."

He banished the rest of the scene and forced it out of his mind. The more dangerous side of Sera's catalytic visit was that all of his old memories were resurfacing, and it hurt to admit how many of them showed Kieran's face. Angry, sullen, elated, breathless, fierce, focused, laconic, sly... a hundred expressions were burned into his mind that he would never forget, not even the ones he wanted to. Heart-broken, pleading, despairing, and achingly hopeful...

If Kieran wanted him to feel something, he certainly was now. He felt shattering empathy for his strange uncle who now bore Gwyn's cloak and duty. He saw so much of himself in Rayce, recognized his struggle as the same one he himself had fought, and lost, all those years ago. He didn't regret leaving his witchlight with his kin.

But he had also felt the lure of the Hunt again, more strongly than he had in years, and he had let himself be pulled in again, even when he had sworn that he would not. He had been on guard ever since, easily resisting a call to the other side of the world and far to the north. Since then, he hadn't heard anything, and the silence wore at him almost as much as the sound of the horn would have.

How long has it been? A week? Two weeks? The winds had quieted and the stillness had taken on an insidious edge in his mind, emphasizing just how alone he was. He wondered if that was why memories of Kieran had been pushing forward more insistently.

Again, in his mind, he heard himself make the same confession to his complicated friend and lover that he had two decades ago. "I have needed you to live. I've always needed you so much, I never had a chance to think about whether we were good for each other or not." Over twenty years had passed since then, and he still wasn't sure what his answer was...