“Jesus, Jane,” the gravelly voice swore, as he rubbed at the bite marks with his hand. “You nearly broke the skin.” His stormy gray eyes met mine. “And human bites are the worst,” he said as my brain went into overdrive.
“You bastard,” I choked, finally. Talking hurt but I was so angry I didn’t care. “You’re supposed to be a dog.”
Anyan looked at me, apparently as confused as I was. “You knew what I was,” he said, defensively. “I told you I was a barghest.”
My eyes nearly rolled out of my head. “What am I, a supernatural encyclopedia?” I coughed, the effort of speaking finally getting the better of me. But I was so angry I forced myself to continue. “I thought,” I started, but it was too much. My throat up and quit on me as I was racked with pain.
Anyan knelt beside me in a flash, his large hands again enfolding my neck. “Shush, you,” he murmured. “Keep still. Let me heal you properly. Your windpipe was nearly crushed.”
I gave him my most baleful stare, even as I felt his hands again emit that gentle warmth that I knew meant a release from pain. He was carefully stroking his thumbs over my windpipe, examining me. Finally satisfied that I wasn’t going to keel over and die, he deigned to meet my hostile gaze. But when I saw the concern in his eyes, my anger melted away.
He was still healing me and I couldn’t yet talk, so I had a chance to study him. He looked somehow familiar, but not in the anxiety-inducing way Jimmu had. In his human form, Anyan was like someone I’d known in a dream. It was a strange sensation, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. I examined his face, so close to mine. His hair was the same color as his fur had been, and equally wild and long. It poofed out in loose, wiry curls that fell just past his high cheekbones. His features were very strong—a long, prominent nose that was quite crooked, a wide mouth with full lips, and an angular jaw. His eyes were large and expressive, but that description fit every bit of him. If he’d been a big dog, he was a huge man. He must be well over six feet tall, and his hands met easily around my neck. He could have crushed my head like a grape.
I know you, I thought at him. For a second, I thought I knew where from, but then the memory faded again. I concentrated, staring intently into his gray eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said, finally. “I didn’t mean to deceive you. You seemed to know what I meant when I told you I was a barghest.”
I smiled at him, ruefully. “Roald Dahl,” I eventually managed to wheeze.
He stared at me for a second, before comprehension dawned on his face. “The Witches?” he asked, with a laugh. “My god, woman. No wonder you looked worried.” He chuckled—a rich, dark sound—and his laugh reverberated through his hands and into my body. “Don’t worry, that’s not an accurate description.”
I raised my eyebrow, and he smiled, understanding me. “We’re two-formeds, like your mother. Human-formed and dog-formed, obviously. But with extra big teeth and paws,” he said, smiling at me to reveal slightly elongated canines. He didn’t show me his hands, but I was very much aware of how big those were, considering they were wrapped around my throat.
We sat in silence for a few more seconds until he slowly released my neck. In the meantime, I was being very careful to keep my eyes away from his crotch. I couldn’t deal with checking out a guy whose adorable fuzzy ears I had been scratching just a few days before.
“How does it feel?” he asked. I cleared my throat experimentally, feeling only the slightest tickle. I extended my experiment to a cough, happy when there was no pain.
“Much better,” I said, finally. My voice was raw, but that was about the only evidence left over of my run-in with Jarl. That and utter exhaustion. I felt like I’d run five marathons in a row and I knew I was minutes away from total systems failure. I think I was also in shock.
“Good,” he said, his hand going to my chin so that he could study my face. I studied him right back, my memory dancing forward and back, teasing me.
“Ryu should never have brought you here,” he said, his rough voice mournful. “It was too soon.”
I was exhausted, on edge, and now Anyan had reminded me that I was still worried about Ryu’s safety. Hearing those words meant I had two choices: I was either going to flip out or start crying hysterically. I chose the former.
“I am not a child, you big mutt,” I said rancorously, all of tonight’s frustration aimed squarely at Anyan’s hairy chest. “Just because I’m a halfling doesn’t mean I’m weak, or unworthy, or stupid. I have handled everything your fucked-up Court has thrown at me, and I’ve survived.” I reconsidered that statement. “Barely,” I admitted, “but I did survive. So stop treating me like some lower species. Dog breath.” I added, after a moment, rather lowering the tone of my spur-of-the-moment speech.
My words obviously stole his thunder, and he sat down next to me heavily. He didn’t speak, at a loss for words.
“I never meant that,” he said, eventually. “I’ve never thought you were pathetic and I don’t consider you half of anything.” His voice was sad, the tone so familiar yet unidentifiable that I wanted to scream. “You’re Jane,” he concluded, “and that’s enough.” He looked over at me, his face shadowed but his eyes still visible.
Of course…
“You were my invisible friend,” I heard myself say.
He frowned, looking guilty.
“When I was in the hospital, after Jason died. You came to me. We talked and you told me everything would be all right. You told me stories and held my hand while I slept.” Once I said those words, I knew I was right. And his expression proved it, no matter how crazy I sounded.
“I visited you,” he admitted. “I couldn’t leave you alone in that place. We—Nell and I—felt guilty about Jason’s death.” He thought about his next words before continuing. “That cove, it’s ours, you know. We keep it hidden for our own use, otherwise it would just be taken over by local kids, but you saw through our glamour. We didn’t make it strong enough. You brought Jason there and we knew we should have sealed it up. But you were both so young and so innocent, and you’d been through such hard times. So we let you use it, and you were comfortable there. Too comfortable,” he added, remorsefully. “If we hadn’t let you use that cove, you would have been more circumspect about your swimming. And if you’d been more wary, Jason would be alive.” He shook his head, sadly. “I’m sorry, Jane. It’s our fault he died.”
There was no doubt in my mind: What he was saying was ridiculous.
“Anyan,” I heard myself say. “That’s not true. Jason’s death, it was…”
My voice trailed off. I was about to say that his death had been an accident.
My entire world wobbled, and I took a few deep breaths.
“So I would visit you,” he persisted. “You were so… broken. And you should never have been in that hospital. We should have intervened. But I probably made things worse, didn’t I?” His voice was so low I could barely make out what he was saying.
“No,” I said, automatically, not realizing that I felt that way before I’d said it. “You’re the reason I got through. I mean, I didn’t know you were real, and I did think you were proof I was crazy at times. But when things got really bad, when I thought I couldn’t get through another day, you’d be there and I didn’t feel so alone.”
With those words we were both struck dumb. Tonight had been way too intense—too many revelations, too much violence, too many painful memories. Too much pain, period, I thought wryly, rubbing a hand over my throat.
“Were you the one by the pool that day, with Jimmu?” I asked, finally breaking the silence. He only nodded.
“Thank you,” I said. “You saved my life, twice.” I took a deep breath. “And I apologize for calling you dog breath. Your breath actually smells like toothpaste. Which makes a lot more sense now that I know you have thumbs.” He gave me a slow smile that I returned, although my brain was still agitated. “So, why did Jarl attack me?”
Beside me, Anyan sighed. “I think Jarl knew what Jimmu was doing and I believe that Jimmu was working on his orders. But perhaps Jarl was telling the truth and he knew nothing.” I felt Anyan’s powerful shoulders shift as he shrugged. “Who knows what motivates the Alfar in general, and Jarl in particular. But he’s always despised half-humans.”
“Well,” I said, “Ryu will definitely have something to say about the fact that I was attacked…” My voice trailed off as Anyan turned to look at me. He made a little gesture and a tiny mage light flickered into life next to our heads.
He stared into my eyes so intently I thought he was going to fall forward and head butt me. “Jane,” he said, his harsh voice choked with emotion. “There are forces at work here that neither of us can understand. You are new to this world and I have been out of the loop for too long.” He shook his shaggy head, angrily. “I have let us both down, and I am sorry. But you must listen to me. You must tell no one about what passed here tonight between you and Jarl. Not even Ryu.” I started to protest, but he placed a single finger over my lips.
