The Phantom Touch

Injury

"That was a dirty trick you pulled."

I didn't fight him as he dragged me farther from the camp.  Lying on my stomach with my shirt bunched up around my neck and under my arms, I simply breathed in slow and deep, my eyes watching the continued burst of blue flames while my ears stung with each shriek of a burning ghost.

"I think we've lost a lot of trust between us and there's no way we can successfully convert you to a ghost at this point."

"I understand Trevor," I muttered, my voice soft and calm, my gaze straight and steady.  "I'm done lying to you."

"What is that worth?" he yelled, stopping our progress.  Then with a violent twist he flipped me on to my back so that I had to face him.  Rage boiled beneath his skin, the flesh taking on a crimson hue, while his eyes bulged and his muscles strained.  That was until he saw how my shirt had risen up during our trek and how the very underside of my bra was showing.  Then, his sneer lowered and his tongue licked his lips.

"How old were you when you died?" I asked, unconcerned with straightening out my clothes.  He'd seen it all before and his gaze no longer held power over me.  I wasn't his to take.  My body was my own and though he may try to take claim of it, even if he were to kill me, it would not change the fact that the body was mine.

"What does that matter?" he hissed, pacing the forest floor, his eyes darting between me and the dark reaches of the forest.  "You think I'm not a man?  You think, I was just a boy?  Well, you are wrong!  I was old enough to take care of my mother and brothers while my father went about drinking and lying with other women.  I was old enough to take his hits for them, just as I was old enough to slice his throat.  I have earned your respect!  I deserve to be treated right!"

"I'm so sorry Trevor," I replied in a soft monotone.  "Did you die in the fight?"

"No!" he snarled, stabbing a finger at me.  "I died honorably!  I died with my mother and brothers watching me hang from the gallows, knowing full well that I was being executed for a just murder.  Perhaps I should have died with contentment, knowing they could live now that I had ended that monster's life, but my hatred for him still burned.  I had been courting a girl, I had been planning a future, then I was denied it by the dirty old men who feared I may do the same to them as I did to my father.  I deserved a life after being denied one my whole childhood.  And I was going to get it.  I would not let that man take that away from me.  He will not win!"

"Trevor, I'm sorry," I said with some honest remorse in my voice.  "I wish..."

"What?" he hissed, grabbing me by my arm and dragging me farther into the woods.  "Do you wish it had been different?  Do you wish you and me could have worked out?  What empty wishes do you have for me?  Whatever they are, fuck them, I don't need them.  Right now, all I need is your body.  Your soul is filthy and manipulative.  I'll just have to kill you and turn you into a zombie, then, when I find a ghost worthy of my love, I can banish you to the dark reaches of your mind so that you can watch in horror as someone else controls the life you should have had."

He threw me across the ground, before pulling a knife out from his belt.  I struggled to find my hands and knees to prop myself up, but before I found stability, he sent a swift kick to my side and knocked me right back down.

"I'll have a half hour to turn you," he mumbled to himself, hefting the knife in his hand as his eyes darted about.  "Yes, I'll just find a place to stash your corpse until they've left the camp and then I'll convert you."  He then paused, growing thoughtful.  "I suppose I should go back to the camp at some point to get the shackles since you'll have your soul until I can find a good ghost to take your place.  Or maybe I should just kill you outright.  You're not that good looking.  Perhaps you're really not worth all the trouble."  He then shrugged and held the knife in front of him.  "I have a half hour to figure it out, for now, let's see how many organs I can puncture before you..."

All I saw was a flash of fur and teeth.  One second Trevor stood before me, ready to stab his knife into my side, the next his legs were snatched in the jaws of an auburn beast who proceeded to swing Trevor's, or really Bungee's, body towards a thick tree, cracking his spine against it.  The zombie's body bent in a way no human should and I felt a mixture of panic and relief fighting for control inside my tightening chest.  Then, a wisp of white light bolted from Bungee's body, his wail a piercing scream, that was soon joined in chorus with the cry stretching Bungee's lips.

"He's out!" shouted Hen, who hopped off the towering werewolf.  "Get the ghost, I'll get Bungee."

I watched another pair of feet hit the ground after sliding off the wolf's back.  He wasn't as spry as the vibrant redhead, but his hands moved as quick as the fire on his tongue.  With a rapid chant and a wave of his arm, Graham called Trevor to his rune, trapping the spirit in a matter of seconds.

"Delilah?  Delilah, are you okay?"

I didn't know who was talking to me or where they were, all I could see was how Bungee lay in a heap upon the ground, his body arched and contorted in grotesque ways, while he seethed with pain.  With Trevor now trapped in a rune, Graham sprinted over to Hen's side, the both of them working fast to place a spell that I prayed would heal him, or to at least heal his body.  I had a feeling there were parts of Bungee that had been damaged in ways no magic could fix.

"Delilah, talk to me," begged a raspy voice.  "Did he hurt you?"

A pair of sturdy hands grabbed my shoulders, turning me to face away from Bungee's broken body and towards the naked figure of the alpha werewolf.  It didn't matter in that moment that he was nude beneath the moonlight or that my shirt still rode up slightly on my stomach.  Neither of us noticed it.  Instead, tears that had feared to fall during the trials of the night, poured over my lashes and I threw myself into his arms.  He held me tight, pressing me against him so that no part of me was exposed to the madness that still swirled around us.  Enveloped in his warmth, I felt my body ease and my tired muscles surrender.  Finding some courage in his presence, I dared to look up and assess the state of his neck.  Feeling my movement, he loosened his hold just enough so I could pull away slightly.  The damage he suffered by Trevor's knife, now took on the shade of a gnarled scar.  I brushed my fingertips over it, tracing the line that had been earned in protection of me.  When he didn't pull away, I drew in close and planted a few light kisses, tasting the love he felt for me.

Then, he shifted and I bit my lip, fearful I had gone too far.  However, as I tried to hide my face in embarrassment, he was quick to bring me back with a gentle tug of my chin.  I looked up into his dark eyes, sweet and soft, before meeting his lips as he drew me in for a kiss.

I may not have had much practice, but in that moment, my body acted on instinct.  It was like my hands knew exactly where to go to pull me in closer, my back knew just how to arch to fit me completely into his embrace, and my lips knew precisely how to press against his.  There was no smashing of teeth, no fervent invasion by a tongue.  Instead, it was a dance, one that required all parts of us to be active and aware.  Our hands running through each other's hair or pressing into each other's back.  Our mouths tasting each other's, testing the limits without surpassing them.  Our breaths coming in slow and soft in time with one another.  Our hearts pulling us closer and closer together.  I could have remained that way, entangled with him beneath the cool moonlight, until the sun rose up and revealed the wounds we were trying desperately to hide.  However, we both knew that now was neither the time nor the place.  With our gratitude expressed and our feelings revealed, we separated and instead slipped into an easy hug.

"It's done," he whispered into my ear, his bristly chin resting against my shoulder.  "It's okay now, it's over."

I looked over his shoulder to find Bungee stabilized, though weak.  He lay prone and broken upon the ground, his head turned to face our quiet corner of the forest.  I met his gaze, holding fast to his sad, remorseful eyes.  A frown tugged at his pale lips, a frown I knew wasn't caused by any physical injury.  As much as Everett wanted to believe this was over, I knew in my heart that it was far from done.

***

It seems the trials for our heroes have come to a close, but no one is walking away a victor. Will they all be able to heal? Can they manage to handle the change in their relationships?

The next chapter ties up things and then it will be followed with an epilogue that will reveal what might happen for Del in the next book. As she said, things are far from done ;)