had guessed, even though I thought I had braced myself, the words still skewered me like a javelin to the chest. My very first thought was, How are we going to tell Tally ?
Then, quickly, like cards shuffling in a waterfall, I saw all the days ahead. A new child, no income, no husband and the world’s deadliest creatures hunting her. Tally’s life would be impossible. “Artemis above…” I breathed.
“It’s not official yet,” Nick whispered. “I had to put the…I had to take him into the forest around the mine, make it explainable.”
He didn’t have to expand on that. Out in the woods of New York state, there were still predators that might attack a human, although even in the eighties sightings were growing rare.
I had no doubt that the gargoyles had eviscerated Carson. Some of the blood scent rising from Nick was the darker, thicker sort that spoke of organs and oxygen-rich arteries. I should have felt blood-lust, but I didn’t. I had stopped feeling altogether at that moment.
A mauled body in the woods would lead to natural assumptions. A bear or cougar or even a wolf. The human authorities would find a story that seemed to explain the death, if we helped them by almost connecting the dots.
That meant it would be days before the body was found, Carson’s identity confirmed and Tally officially informed.
“We can’t say anything to her. Not now.” That made me feel something at last. I felt ill. Lying to Tally was something I avoided. She was too good at spotting lies and evasions and I just didn’t like the guilt it engendered. Which was funny, as I’d known Tally since she was in diapers. I’d changed some of those diapers myself. Tally, the grown woman, though, was a force of nature. She knew what she wanted and she was the best hunter I’d ever seen. I had never said it aloud, but I sometimes considered the almost heretical idea that she was even better than Nick.
Nick had come by his hunting skills the hard way—through long experience and costly mistakes. Tally was a natural at it. She was that good. Of course, Nick had trained her, so she’d reaped his experience, too. Humans often didn’t do what they should do, but what they felt like doing. I couldn’t say that about Tally. She had absorbed every inch of training Nick had ever given her, reiterated and improved on it, to become the hunter and indomitable woman she was.
No, I didn’t want to lie to her. My huge reluctance to lie was why it turned out the way it did.
I hauled Nick to his feet, making everyone in the waiting room who wasn’t almost asleep turn their heads to watch us, then marched him back outside and told him to go clean up. As in, clean everything . The car would have to be scrubbed to remove anything that wouldn’t support the story and put in a parking lot near the body to account for how Connors had got to where he was found. A story would have to be made up to account for why he was there in the first place.
Tally would have to send up alarm signals in the next few hours, as a wife and new mother naturally would over a missing husband and father. Just the fact that Connors wasn’t here right now would raise questions all by itself. I could avoid the moment when I had to look her in the eye and speak the words.
Riley Carson Connors was born at five twenty-three a.m. I wasn’t at Tally’s side. No one was. In that decade, the idea of coaches and partners and breathing buddies didn’t exist. Even husbands weren’t encouraged to linger at the bedside where they would get in way.
Around seven a.m., when the night shift swapped out, I went up to the desk to ask about Tally. The nurse went away, then came back and informed me the child had been delivered about ninety minutes ago, sit down and wait until mother felt up to visitors.
I wondered if anyone had used that same peremptory tone with Tally and smiled to myself. If they did, they would rue the day.
Apparently, the day shift staff did try it on
Then, quickly, like cards shuffling in a waterfall, I saw all the days ahead. A new child, no income, no husband and the world’s deadliest creatures hunting her. Tally’s life would be impossible. “Artemis above…” I breathed.
“It’s not official yet,” Nick whispered. “I had to put the…I had to take him into the forest around the mine, make it explainable.”
He didn’t have to expand on that. Out in the woods of New York state, there were still predators that might attack a human, although even in the eighties sightings were growing rare.
I had no doubt that the gargoyles had eviscerated Carson. Some of the blood scent rising from Nick was the darker, thicker sort that spoke of organs and oxygen-rich arteries. I should have felt blood-lust, but I didn’t. I had stopped feeling altogether at that moment.
A mauled body in the woods would lead to natural assumptions. A bear or cougar or even a wolf. The human authorities would find a story that seemed to explain the death, if we helped them by almost connecting the dots.
That meant it would be days before the body was found, Carson’s identity confirmed and Tally officially informed.
“We can’t say anything to her. Not now.” That made me feel something at last. I felt ill. Lying to Tally was something I avoided. She was too good at spotting lies and evasions and I just didn’t like the guilt it engendered. Which was funny, as I’d known Tally since she was in diapers. I’d changed some of those diapers myself. Tally, the grown woman, though, was a force of nature. She knew what she wanted and she was the best hunter I’d ever seen. I had never said it aloud, but I sometimes considered the almost heretical idea that she was even better than Nick.
Nick had come by his hunting skills the hard way—through long experience and costly mistakes. Tally was a natural at it. She was that good. Of course, Nick had trained her, so she’d reaped his experience, too. Humans often didn’t do what they should do, but what they felt like doing. I couldn’t say that about Tally. She had absorbed every inch of training Nick had ever given her, reiterated and improved on it, to become the hunter and indomitable woman she was.
No, I didn’t want to lie to her. My huge reluctance to lie was why it turned out the way it did.
I hauled Nick to his feet, making everyone in the waiting room who wasn’t almost asleep turn their heads to watch us, then marched him back outside and told him to go clean up. As in, clean everything . The car would have to be scrubbed to remove anything that wouldn’t support the story and put in a parking lot near the body to account for how Connors had got to where he was found. A story would have to be made up to account for why he was there in the first place.
Tally would have to send up alarm signals in the next few hours, as a wife and new mother naturally would over a missing husband and father. Just the fact that Connors wasn’t here right now would raise questions all by itself. I could avoid the moment when I had to look her in the eye and speak the words.
Riley Carson Connors was born at five twenty-three a.m. I wasn’t at Tally’s side. No one was. In that decade, the idea of coaches and partners and breathing buddies didn’t exist. Even husbands weren’t encouraged to linger at the bedside where they would get in way.
Around seven a.m., when the night shift swapped out, I went up to the desk to ask about Tally. The nurse went away, then came back and informed me the child had been delivered about ninety minutes ago, sit down and wait until mother felt up to visitors.
I wondered if anyone had used that same peremptory tone with Tally and smiled to myself. If they did, they would rue the day.
Apparently, the day shift staff did try it on
Similar Books
