Taste of Vengeance ✔

Chapter 16

Agitated, he flapped his arms – which were wings now. They already felt heavy. "A bat? Why a fucking bat? What's wrong with a dog or something?" He wanted to yell the words, but the only sound leaving his mouth was a furious squeaking. 

Scarlett laughed softly, apparently she understood bat talk. Why am I even surprised. He dropped down at the table. Awkwardly he walked a little, using his wings as front legs. It wasn't very comfortable and he let out a frustrated grunt. 

"We've always had a connection with bats. It's easier to change shapes when you're a bat."

"But I hate bats! And the funeral is in broad daylight!"

"You'll just have to hide in the shadows."

"No! Fuck off with all this stupid crap! I'm going to my own fucking funeral, let me at least decide myself how I'm dressed."

"I'm not a sorcerer, Juice. My powers are limited."

Juice didn't believe it at all. He just felt she was also able to turn him into a dog. 

With a sigh, she agreed. She folded her hands around him and his body started to get heated. His eyes saw nothing but dark spots, but when his vision returned he was higher on the table. He looked down, seeing a black fur with brown spots on his paws and chest. 

"You're a puppy. A Dobermann puppy. Happy now?"

Juice jumped off the table. Immediately he felt much more energetic and he ran around the room. Before he knew it, his tongue was out. 

Fuck this is so weird. 

"Come on Scooby Doo, let's go!'

Juice wanted to scowl at her because of the nickname, but instead he was only growling. Chuckling, she petted his head. 

. . .

Since Abigail knew that Scarlett didn't have a dog and because it was a little strange if the animal disappeared after one day, it was Ephraim who put the collar around his neck and put him on leash. Why the man was accompanying him, he didn't know. Scarlett had told him that he had pretended to be a trainee at the morgue and he would even lead the funeral. 

There was a gentle rain when they arrived at the cemetery. 

"I'm going to let you loose, but stay close," Ephraim told him. 

The voice of the man felt viscous in his head, causing a dull headache. His okay came out in the form of a soft yapping. The fingers of the Darkling wandered across his neck, then he let go of the leash and headed towards the door of the meeting room. 

Juice assumed that dogs weren't allowed inside and roamed through the graveyard. It didn't take long before he found familiar headstones. Half Sack. Tara. Donna. Opie – well, it was an empty grave now, he realized. Gemma, he discovered, feeling shocked. 

A heavy feeling in his chest made it hard for him to return. Soon he would see his own grave. An empty coffin. 

And Abigail. 

His Abigail, who believed that he was dead. 

His eyes were itching, there however were no tears. Maybe dogs weren't able to cry. 

The rain drenched his fur and slowly he strolled back and started to look for his own headstone. It was a beautiful grey one in which a poem was carved. 

Softly the leaves of memory fall
Gently I gather and treasure them all 
Unseen, unheard you are always near
So missed, so loved, so very dear

His name and dates of birth and death were written underneath it. Suddenly the realization hit him like a truck. 

He was dead. Juice was gone. 

Who or what he was now, he didn't even know; but he was certainly not the same person. 

Footsteps distracted him, a procession was coming closer. A few men wearing black were carrying the coffin, Ephraim on front. He always thought it would be his brothers holding the coffin. Now it were strangers. 

And there she was, behind the coffin. Scarlett was walking next to her, holding an umbrella above her head. Abigail was wearing a black dress and a black veil; despite all the sleepless nights and the grief she was as beautiful as the day he met her. Her hand went to her eyes as she wiped the tears. A sobbing sound left his lips when he noticed the ring around her finger; the ring he had never been able to give her. 

His chest cramped. He wanted to cry too, however couldn't. 

A small crowd followed her. More people than he had expected, he realized stunned. He had thought that Abigail would be the only one mourning his death, but he recognized Chibs and Tig, Venus and Lyla. Even his sister – and wait, even his mother. His sister was crying, and he even thought to see a tear on his mother's cheek. 

From between the bushes Juice watched everyone come closer. A few steps away from them they gathered around the grave. Her perfume rose above all the other smells, calling up such a painful longing that he buried his nails in the dirt. 

Words were spoken when the coffin was lowered, flowers falling down on it. Slowly the people walked by, whispering a farewell. Juice was too emotional to do anything. 

Abigail was the only one he could look at. 

She stayed behind, staring at the grave. Scarlett was on her left, Ephraim on her right. He growled when the man laid a hand on her shoulder. It was so unfair. He wanted to touch her too, he wanted to hold her so badly. 

Suddenly she started to cry. She dropped down on her knees, weeping so heart-wrenching that Juice was flinching. His girl, his love – she felt such a deep pain and he wasn't even dead. Not completely. 

Scarlett was about to kneel down next to her, but Ephraim raised his hand to stop her. 

"You should go to her, Juice. Your presence will be more comforting than ours."

Juice hesitated. He was just a dog. She wouldn't even recognize him. 

Still he left his hiding place reluctantly and walked towards her. With every step he took, her cries sounded more desperate. The sound of it tore him apart.

He sat down next to her, leaning with his head against her shoulder. She looked to the side, he shivered as she looked right into his eyes. 

"It's me," he tried to tell her. "It's me baby."

"She can't hear you," Scarlett's voice sounded in his head. 

Abigail's fingers stroked his wet fur. In a whim she hugged him, burying her face into his fur while sobbing. Her tears dripped on his skin, making him shiver. Soothingly, he rubbed his head against her shoulder. 

Oh, if she only knew. 

If she only knew that she was mourning the one she was hugging now.