The Gathering (DR) Read online

  Daniel grabbed me by the loose skin around my neck. "You can't help her! Come on!"

  When he heaved on me, I caught another glimpse of my grandmother, lying in the grass. Rage and fear coursed through me and the world turned bloodred. Daniel heaved again and I spun, snarling, jaws opening, fangs slashing for his arm. Then I saw him and swung to the side, biting air instead.

  "Maya! Daniel!"

  Another voice I knew. One that filled my gut with ice water. Antone.

  "Daniel!" Corey shouted. "Leave her! She'll be fine. Come on!"

  Daniel's grip on my ruff didn't loosen. He whispered, "Please, Maya. Please."

  I looked back at my grandmother. Then up at Antone. Then at Moreno and two others running behind him, all armed with tranquilizer guns. And it was like when they'd shot Kenjii. When they'd shot Daniel. I'd watched them fall and there was nothing I could do. Not against so many.

  I tore my gaze from my grandmother and ran. When another dart whizzed by, I veered to the side. Daniel shouted, then realized I wasn't circling back--I was separating us, making us tougher to shoot.

  We were already in the long grass. That made me nearly impossible to hit. I looked over at Daniel. A dart hit the flap of his sweatshirt and lodged there. As he batted it out, I circled, racing behind him and bumping the back of his legs. He understood and bent over, running as low as he could, zigzagging, his dark shirt making him nearly invisible in the night.

  "Corey!" He shouted. "Go!"

  We made it to the neighboring cabin. That blocked us from sight--and gunfire--and we could hear our pursuers cursing as we slipped under the porch. They cursed even louder when they got around the cabin and didn't find us there. As we hid under the porch, Daniel whipped a stone into the woods. Antone and Moreno took off, with Antone shouting for the others to go back for my grandmother.

  Three days in the Vancouver Island wilderness hadn't made Moreno any better at moving quietly through the woods. When he wasn't thundering across hard earth or crashing through the undergrowth, he was cursing. As we waited there, listening and tracking them, I relaxed, and as soon as I did I lost consciousness.

  FIVE

  "MAYA?"

  I looked at my paw. Not a paw. A human hand. I lifted my head, blinking, then remembered.

  "Grandma!" I said.

  Daniel clapped a hand to my mouth. "I heard them talking. They're going to put her in her studio. They figure she'll wake up and think she had a dream. She's fine."

  "Oh."

  My fingers dug into the ground as I struggled against the first prickle of tears.

  "I know," he whispered. "But she'll know the truth as soon as we can manage it. Better for now if she thinks it was a dream."

  He was right, of course. At least the Nast team didn't plan to haul her away and lock her up.

  Corey whispered, "I think the other two are gone. Your, uh, father and that guy. Can you hear anything?"

  I started to rise up on all fours and felt a chill. I glanced down. I was lying on my stomach. Without clothing.

  "Yep, you're naked," Corey said, with a ghost of his usual grin. "Don't worry, I'm saving all my skeevy comments for later."

  "Thanks."

  I realized then that there was something on my back, covering me down to my butt. Daniel's sweatshirt. It was too tight under the porch to put it on me, but he'd stretched it over my back.

  I let out a soft sigh of relief and looked over at him. "Thank you."

  A quirk of a smile. "Anytime. Corey? Keep your eyes on the forest while she puts that on."

  "Seriously? You're going to rob me of the one ray of light in--Oww."

  I crawled from under the porch and pulled on the shirt. Everything was silent. The scents I detected were very faint. Moreno and Antone had passed through the woods and carried on. We had to get moving before they came back.

  I found my clothing and got my jeans and shoes on, saving the rest until we were farther away. Antone might be my father, but he wasn't on my side, no matter what he said. My biological mother had run away from the experiment before I was born, along with my twin brother. I didn't remember either--she'd abandoned me shortly after my birth and had kept my brother. I was still dealing with that. I was still dealing with a lot.

  We carefully made our way back to the ferry docks. The last one had departed. Corey suggested stealing a boat. We could do it--he was an excellent boater. But it was too risky--they'd be watching for a small craft making a hasty exit. Through otherwise empty waters. Better to hole up in a stretch of woods and wait for the morning ferry.

  First we found a park with a washroom. We did break into that--we had to. Then we cleaned up as best we could and found a safe place to spend the night.

  We waited for the second ferry the next morning. We'd bottlenecked ourselves on the island. There was only one way off. Antone would know that. So he'd expect us to be on that first ferry.

  When the time came, we sent Daniel to get the tickets. He had a sixth sense for danger. It wasn't perfect, but benandanti were mainly demon-hunters and Moreno was a half-demon. Meanwhile I'd be downwind, on full alert.

  After Daniel got the tickets, we stayed hidden in the forest waiting for the departure time. The ferry dock was basically slabs of cement plunked down in the wilderness. A couple of buildings. A parking lot. A long pier. Not the ideal location for anyone trying to sneak on board. Just as we were thinking we might need to just make a run for it, a school bus pulled in and disgorged a couple dozen students.

  "Please tell me they're walk-ons," Corey said.

  "Even if they're taking the bus, we might be able to sneak on with them," I said.

  Daniel made a noise deep in his throat. Disagreeing. He was right. Kids on Galiano Island would be a lot like kids from Salmon Creek, where you'd known your classmates forever.

  When the first group headed for the pier, we breathed a collective sigh of relief. They were indeed walking on.

  "We'll split up," I said. "Daniel, you go first. Corey, you're next. I'll bring up the rear and keep my ears open for trouble."

  We joined them in the parking lot. Merging with the group wasn't easy. When Daniel cut in, they noticed. The girls did, anyway. They always do. It's the blond wavy hair, the friendly smile . . . the wrestling and boxing champion physique.

  When Corey joined, he took some of the attention, but that hardly helped us pass unnoticed. And when I slid in, they all noticed, because I was the only brown face in the group.

  "Hey," one of the guys said to me. "You going to the mainland?"

  "I am."

  He started telling me about their trip and I struggled to pretend I was listening while my attention was attuned to the parking lot behind us. I hoped an overly polite nod or two would stop him, but he continued chattering away.

  I glanced back. All the cars were on the ferry now, the gate closing.

  "Looking for someone?" he said.

  "No, I--"

  "Right here." Corey appeared and slung his arm around my shoulders. "I thought you were already on board, baby."

  The guy grumbled and walked faster as we reached the pier.

  "Baby?" I said.

  "You can thank me later." He glanced back. "I don't see anyone, but other than Antone and Moreno, I don't know who I'm looking for."

  Daniel overheard, having slowed to let us catch up. "Just watch for anyone acting like they're looking for somebody."

  "Like that woman running toward the gate?"

  Corey didn't wait for an answer, just tightened his grip on my shoulders and started propelling me through the crowd.

  "Slow down," I hissed. "Running will only make it worse."

  Damn it, we shouldn't have attempted this. As soon as we set foot on the ferry, we were trapped. I looked up and down the pier, but there was no place to hide. We were being funneled toward the boat and--

  "Jimmy!" the woman shouted. "Jimmy! You forgot your EpiPen!"

  A few of the kids laughed. A red-faced boy grumbled some
thing and stomped back.

  "Bullet dodged," Corey said. "Now let's get on the boat."

  We stayed with the school group until we were on. The ferry was the Queen of Nanaimo. It wasn't a little ship. It had room for a couple hundred cars and close to a thousand passengers.

  We headed straight upstairs to the top deck. Some of the kids were already there for the best vantage point. We stayed behind them as we strained to look out. My night vision is better than average, but my regular sight is about the same. There were a few people on the pier as the ship prepared to depart, but no sign--

  Daniel gripped my arm and whispered. "Don't move. It's Antone." He didn't say "your father." He knew how I felt--my father was Rick Delaney. "To the left. Back at the ticket counter."

  He was right. Even from so far away I recognized Antone, and if I had any doubts, they evaporated when Moreno walked up beside him.

  Antone was showing something to the cashier.

  "Oh no," I whispered. "Photos. He's showing her . . ."

  But Antone turned away and headed back toward a truck.

  "What?" I looked at Daniel. "Why didn't the cashier recognize you?"

  "Because I didn't buy the tickets."

  I glanced at him.

  "I persuaded a guy to buy them for me. Putting my mystical powers to good use. The extra five I gave him probably didn't hurt. He looked like he could use it."

  "You are a genius."

  A genuine smile. "Thank you. Now, as soon as we're in motion--"

  The ferry's engines revved and we started pulling from the dock.

  "Wow," I said. "Your powers work on inanimate objects, too."

  He laughed. "I wish."

  He waved me back from the rail, then led us to a tiny room off the main deck. It was a sitting room, with seats, windows, and a private bathroom.

  "Um, I think these are reserved for paying customers," Corey said as Daniel walked in.

  Daniel waved the receipt.

  "Big spender," I said.

  "It wasn't much extra." He closed the door. "I figured we could splurge for a few minutes of peace and quiet. And a real bathroom."

  I collapsed onto the nearest seat. "Again, you are a genius."

  "Not done yet. I got you a treat."

  He reached into his pocket and pulled something out.

  "Oh my God. Is that an apple? Two apples?" I leaped up, snatched them, then fell back on the seat. "I think Grandma was right. I really have died and gone to heaven." I took a huge bite of the apple and groaned.

  "Normally, I'd say you're weird," Corey said. "But after days of eating junk food, those do look good." He turned to Daniel. "That's really sexist, you know, buying the chick a--"

  Daniel took another one from his backpack.

  "Oh my God. I think I love you." Corey threw open his arms. The apple bounced off his forehead. "Oww."

  I shook my head, closed my eyes, and smiled.

  SIX

  IT WAS LESS THAN an hour to the mainland, but by the time we got there, we'd rested, cleaned up, and were feeling better. Most importantly, we'd come up with a plan. A desperate plan, but no worse than anything we'd tried so far. We were going to our funeral.

  Crazy? Yes. And when Corey had suggested it, Daniel and I rattled off a list of reasons why we couldn't try it. Yet the idea took root and the more we thought about it, the more we realized it might be really our only chance to make contact with our parents.

  Once we were back in Vancouver, we went to another library and found an obituary website hosted by the Victoria Times-Colonist newspaper. How strange was it, typing my own name into the search box? Not nearly as strange as seeing the details of my passing fill the screen, along with pages of condolences. Summer kids and their parents. Guys I'd dated. Coaches and fellow athletes I'd met at track meets. Employees at the Victoria Refuge Centre. People who knew my mom, my dad, my grandmother. People recollecting moments with me that, sometimes, I didn't even remember myself.

  As I read, Daniel wheeled his chair over behind me.

  "Everyone will know the truth soon enough," he whispered.

  I nodded. As I printed the funeral details, Corey turned from the computer beside mine.

  "Uh, guys? You know that email address I set up? We've got a message."

  I slid my chair over. Corey had the message displayed on the screen.

  It was from Cyril Mitchell's daughter. She'd decided to talk to us, but what she had to say was too important for a phone conversation. She'd looked up the area code from our phone call and knew we were in Vancouver, so she was on her way here and would arrive late morning.

  "She sent it yesterday," Corey said. "Meaning she's already here. She says she'll be checking email and wants us to give a time and place to meet."

  "Reply and say we'll meet at the aquarium at"--I checked Daniel's watch--"four. We'll be in the lobby."

  He sent the message. We were still looking up maps for the funeral location when the reply came back. Four o'clock, yes. At the aquarium, yes. But not in the lobby. Someplace more private. Fortunately, the aquarium was deep in Granville Park, meaning privacy was only a short walk away. We chose a spot, then sent a message back. Ten minutes later, she accepted.

  We'd been planning to visit the site of the memorial service, to check it out, but if Mitchell's daughter was coming, then it seemed we wouldn't need that anymore. So we got a late lunch and tried to relax. Then we caught a cab to the aquarium. We'd just crossed the bridge onto Granville Island when Corey gasped. The three of us were wedged in the backseat, me between the guys, and I looked over to see Corey's face pale, his mouth open, his eyes filled with pain. Before I could say anything, he let out a strangled yowl and doubled over, his head in his hands.

  "What is wrong with him?" the driver asked, his voice rising as he slowed.

  I leaned past Corey to get the window down.

  "It's just a headache," Daniel said.

  It wasn't just a headache. It was one of Corey's raging migraines, which had been getting steadily worse. As he moaned, his head nearly in his lap, I managed to get the pill bottle from his pocket. I was shaking one out when he heaved and dry-retched.

  The cabbie pulled over so fast we nearly got whiplash.

  "Out!" he said. "No drunk kids in my cab!"

  "He's not drunk," Daniel said. "It's just a--"

  "Out! Out!"

  Daniel started to argue. I stopped him. His powers only worked when someone was willing to be persuaded. This guy was not. We managed to get Corey--still coughing and sputtering--from the cab. Daniel turned to pay, but the guy was already speeding off.

  "Should try that more often," Corey mumbled as we led him to the side of the road. "Save some cash."

  Cars streaming into the park--which is a thoroughfare to downtown Vancouver--began slowing to watch us. For three days now we'd been moving through Vancouver and Galiano with only some thought to remaining hidden. Now, having seen our obituaries, I began to wonder if it was only blind luck that no one had yet recognized us from a newspaper article. The way we'd died--escaping a forest fire only to perish ironically in the helicopter taking us to safety--might have made us newsworthy. Slipping through the city, we'd probably go unnoticed. But standing by a busy road, helping a "drunk" friend after being kicked from a cab? We were calling too much attention to ourselves.

  "Get him in the woods," I said, motioning to the forest that flanked the road.

  As we did that, Corey had recovered enough to dry-swallow the pill and walk on his own.

  "At least I didn't actually puke this time," he said. "That's a bonus." He winced and rubbed the back of his neck.

  "Sit down," I said. "We're early and it's only a short walk."

  He seemed ready to argue, then took another step and looked like he was going to throw up. He made a face and lowered himself onto a tree stump. We said nothing, just waited.

  After a moment, he waved to head out. We did, but Daniel and I kept shooting glances at Corey. The St. Clouds
had been keeping his headaches under control. They knew what was going on. We didn't. We couldn't. No one could, not even other supernaturals, because there was no one like Corey out there. If we never went back to the St. Clouds, never had contact with them again, how could we help--

  We'd figure it out. We had to.

  SEVEN

  AS WE NEARED THE aquarium, Corey stopped suddenly.

  "It's a trap," he said.

  "What?"

  "I--" He took a deep breath. "I think it's a trap. I mean, are we sure this chick is who she says she is? All we know is that someone emailed us."

  "Using an address you just set up and we only gave to Mitchell's daughter," I said.

  "What's wrong?" Daniel said.

  Corey shook his head. "Nothing. I just . . . I think we should reconsider." He glanced toward the aquarium. "I think we need to be really, really sure that the person showing up is a woman. We should scout first."

  Which made absolute sense. Except that Corey was never the guy advising caution; he was the one we had to caution.

  "It's not a woman waiting for us, is it?" Daniel said.

  "I don't know. I'm just saying--"

  "No, you're not."

  Daniel instinctively took on his persuasive tone, then seemed to catch himself. He cleared his throat. Earlier we'd talked about this, how he didn't want to use his powers on us. Now, without thinking, he was doing it and he looked abashed, but I wasn't sure he had a reason to. It was a skill as much as a talent. Something he'd always done, except with me. Maybe because he knew I was too damned stubborn to be persuaded of anything.

  He cleared his throat again. "You're not 'just saying,' Corey. You saw who's waiting for us. You had a vision with the headache."

  "What?" Corey said. "Um, no. You're confusing me with Maya. She gets the visions."

  "This is different," Daniel said. "You see images of things that don't make any sense. Like Maya with Rafe when we thought he was dead. You saw him with Maya in her backyard. Exactly the way they looked when we found them, right?"

  Corey glanced at me.

  "I didn't tell him." I said. "You know I wouldn't do that."

  "I overheard," Daniel said. "You're never as quiet as you think you are, Corey. It didn't make sense at the time, but after, I started wondering. Then when we were in that van, you knew it was Maya rescuing us before she got the door open."