AgathaHart
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In the Woods Ch7 (NEW CHAPTER!)
🕑 Added 2016-12-16 04:22:00 +0000 UTCThe sun rose the next morning, warm enough that it ached. Between the weather and their own fear, the four had hardly slept. Instead, they’d all fallen into a stupor, minds adrift and bodies stiff, finally woken when Jack began to change back to his human form.
Mud splattered across white fur as he thrashed and whined. His joints cracked as they reformed to their proper positions, bones and muscle rolling and shifting like living things beneath his skin, and then he was himself again. He lay naked, shivering and panting in the dirt.
Koz’s body felt like stale taffy as he uncurled himself from between the two teens.
He pulled off his jacket and approached the young man. Jack sat up groggily and Koz wrapped his jacket around his slim shoulders. It wasn’t dry or particularly warm, but it’d be better than nothing. Jack was still shaky and out of it, so Koz helped him zip and button the coat. After a moment’s thought, he slipped off his shoes and socks and helped Jack pull them on as well. His toes tingled in the chilly mud, but he figured if Jack could go without pants and trousers, he could go without shoes and socks.
He looked up to see the teens watching them. Nightlight’s eyes were fearful; Katherine’s were wet.
“We’re going to the car,” Koz said, standing. “But I want all of us to stay alert—that thing could still be out there.”
Nightlight stood, shifting from foot to foot. Katherine stayed near the ground. Her lip wobbled as she blinked up at Koz with wet lashes. “Now that it’s daylight,” she said in a thin voice, “can we look for Ombric?”
Koz let out a long breath. He wasn’t sure how Ombric could have got out there—he wasn’t sure he really believed it was him last night. But he did believe that if they found Ombric out here they’d be finding a corpse, and he wasn’t going to put Katherine through that. He looked away from her searching gaze. She was facing the loss of a father—the situation was too familiar. He swallowed. She was only a few years older than Sera—
“I’m taking you two back to the cabin where it’s safe,” Koz said. “Then Jack and I will go look.” He returned her gaze. “Alright?”
Katherine swallowed and nodded.
Koz helped Jack to his feet. After retrieving his weapon from where it had dropped the night before, they left the safety of the circle.
The morning was cold, but the sun burned hot in a way that suggested lasting warmth as the day wore on. The four of them remained close together, keeping an eye on their surroundings, especially the trees overhead. Between the dark, the rain, and general chaos, Koz hadn’t seen much of the Thing in the Trees other than what the exiles had already told him: shaped like a human, quiet, and fast. By daylight the trees looked so bare, he wondered how the thing could hide among the branches. Perhaps that was why it had attacked at night? But why not hibernate when its main hunting grounds were so exposed over the winter?
He glanced at Nightlight out of the corner of his eye. The boy seemed to have lost his usual shine—and Koz didn’t think it was entirely because he was worried about Ombric. The boy had definitely seen something, but Koz would have to wait until they got back to the cabin before he could question him.
They made it to the car without incident.
Katherine navigated using her map, leading them back to the cabin following the RV trail. Every now and then she’d get choked up and Koz worried he’d have to pass off the task to Jack—who was nearly unconscious in the back seat. Katherine held strong though, holding the map between shaking fingers as she sniffled her way through directions.
Koz wished that things could be different for her—for all of them. It might not stop the Thing in the Trees from existing, but he couldn’t help but think if Katherine had never gotten the bite, she would’ve spent the night safe at home, probably lying awake in bed watching cat videos on her phone like Ser—like a normal, non-lycan teen. Katherine’s distress over Ombric reminded him of his own situation, but it also brought to mind what Katherine had said: ‘You did the right thing.’
He had never felt it more true than at that moment—with Jack achy and weak from the change, Nightlight staring straight ahead and reeking of anxiety, and Katherine barely managing to hold it together.
The car brakes squeaked slightly as Koz pulled the car to a stop in front of the cabin. They all piled out stiffly and then, in unison, ground to a halt. In the misty morning light, a pale, still figure sat slumped against the deck railing. It was Ombric, chin on his chest and arms loosely wrapped around himself.
Koz saw no apparent wounds, but crumpled up as Ombric was, he wouldn’t doubt there were some there.
Katherine stepped forward, body low. “Ombric?”
Koz moved to intercept her. She shouldn’t have to see someone she loved like this.
Ombric jerked upright, causing Koz and all the others to jump.
Ombric blinked up at them, adjusting his glasses from where they’d slid down his nose. He seemed to realize who he was looking at and his expression slipped into a ferocious frown. “Where on earth have you been?” He croaked.
Katherine and Nightlight flung themselves at him. The old man let out a shrill squeak as he was hugged tightly by the two teens.
Koz let out an incredulous laugh as Ombric gave him a questioning look over Katherine’s shoulder.
“I take it something a little more dramatic happened than the car getting stuck in the mud again,” he said.
“Just a little,” Koz said as Jack tottered over and pressed into his side, visibly trembling in the chill. “We’ll tell you about it over breakfast,” Koz said, slipping an arm around Jack’s shoulders, “inside.”
Ombric had made them dinner: garlic chicken, broccoli, and penne in pesto sauce. It was cold of course, but Jack had nearly inhaled half of it before anyone could even suggest the microwave.
The kitchen table was still taken up by Ombric’s lab equipment so Jack and the exiles sat on the floor by the bed. The young man ate straight out of the pan, mechanically stabbing at the pasta with his fork and pushing it into his mouth. He blinked in a slow, sleepy way that was entirely too endearing.
Koz prepared a pot of coffee. He was too tired to cook a proper breakfast, but he didn’t feel like he could stomach the meal Ombric had prepared for them the night before. Exhausted, he hauled out a loaf of bread and started some toast. He laid out butter, jam, and peanut butter next to the four on the floor, bringing the coffee pot and five coffee mugs over as well. All the while, he listened as Katherine told Ombric what had happened.
“And so then we stayed in the Druid Circle until Jack turned back. We didn’t see the Thing again.” Katherine glanced to Nightlight and back to Ombric. “We thought you were dead, Ombric,” she said, her voice trembling over the word.
Ombric reached out a gnarled hand and laid it over hers. “I’m glad to say I’m not dead,” he said. “But . . . well . . . Katherine I never got farther than the porch last night! I was worried—God, I was so worried—but I knew you had Koz and Jack with you and I figured with the rain, your car must’ve gotten stuck again. And Koz said not to leave the cabin by ourselves so . . .”
“It wasn’t you?” Katherine asked.
Ombric shook his head.
Katherine looked to Koz. “Does that mean someone else got killed last night?”
“Possibly,” Koz said. He laid a plate of bare toast in the middle of the group and sat. The food was ignored by everyone but Jack, who abandoned the chicken and pasta in favor of the toast, grabbing a slice and slathering it with a healthy coating of peanut butter.
“The Thing in the Trees might’ve found another victim. Later, Jack and I will go check out the area.”
Jack looked up, toast hanging from his mouth, eyebrows raised in a question. Koz put a coffee cup in front of him, picked up the carafe, and filled the mug, eying Jack all the while. “You’re going to need this,” he said.
Jack’s shoulders slumped in disappointment, but Koz ignored him, turning instead to Nightlight, who hadn’t even attempted signing all morning.
“It would help if we knew a little about what we are up against . . .” He said, frowning as Nightlight refused to look at him.
“Nini?” Katherine asked softly. “Did you see it?”
Nightlight huffed, eyes roaming the room, but refusing to land on them.
Koz tried to remember his list of possible suspects—what were some things that Nightlight could’ve seen?
“What color was it?” He asked.
Nightlight blanched. ‘I don’t know,’ he signed.
Koz frowned; the boy couldn’t have seen nothing. Koz had dealt with enough traumatized victims to recognize this. He sighed. He didn’t have the time to treat this as delicately as he could; it was only a matter of time before the weather destroyed what little evidence the Thing might have left.
“Night, Jack and I need to go back out there—please. Anything you can tell us would be helpful.”
Nightlight fiddled with his muddied shoelaces. ‘D-A-R-K,’ he signed.
“It was dark, or the Thing was dark?” Koz asked.
‘T-H-I-N-G,’ Nightlight fingerspelled. Koz was reminded that the boy wasn’t fluent in Sign Language yet, so he signed his next question, hoping Nightlight could mimic his vocabulary:
“Was it dark brown, grey, green, something else, which?”
‘I don’t know,’ Nightlight signed, finally meeting Koz’s eye to offer him an apologetic look. ‘I don’t remember.’
Koz tried not to sound too disappointed. ‘Dark’ was good, Koz could work with ‘dark’. Granted it could be anything from a ciguapa to a kallikantzaros, but he could at least rule out most (but unfortunately not all) of the humanoid monsters from Western Europe and East Asia. “What do you remember?”
Nightlight sighed and held up his hands to sign, then paused, thinking. He grabbed his neck with both hands and mimed them pulling upward.
“It hauled you up by the neck?” Koz asked. “What do you remember of its hands—were they clawed, furry, did they feel like hands or paws?”
Nightlight’s gaze slipped past Koz’s shoulder as he fell into thought.
“I don’t know if it had very large claws,” Katherine cut in. “When it grabbed me, it touched my back, but it didn’t scratch me.”
Nightlight nodded slowly. ‘Not F-U-R-R-Y,’ he signed. ‘Very R-O-U-G-H. I felt . . .’ He pointed to Jack, resorting to charades once more to make up for his lack of Sign vocabulary. He mimed grabbing something and pointed to his feet. ‘I looked up,’ he added. He shuddered. ‘It looked like . . .’ He twisted his features into a demented grin and Koz could smell the anxiety in the room skyrocket.
“So it had a face—eyes? A mouth?” Koz asked.
Nightlight nodded, unsettled and smelling of fear. ‘White eyes and a huge grin.’
*
After a huge breakfast, a dose of caffeine, and some fresh clothes, Jack was much livelier. Which was good, because Koz had immediately chased him back out the door.
Ombric had been very clear: he did not go any farther than the cabin porch. There was no way they’d heard Ombric’s voice, but they’d certainly heard someone.
Koz drove the two of them to the same spot they’d been the night before, and they combed the ground for signs of a struggle, examined trees for bloodied hand or footprints, tried to find broken branches and shrubbery that weren’t caused by the harsh weather, but they found nothing. There was no sign of an attack, other than what’d been done to them. No bones, nothing to suggest there had even been any campers in the area.
Koz and Jack drove back to the cabin, Jack dozing against the window and Koz bleary-eyed and unsettled.
There was no way that he, Jack, Katherine, and Nightlight had all hallucinated Ombric’s voice that night, and that meant that whatever they were looking for might very well be capable of using human speech. And not only had it had the intelligence to use this ability to lead them astray, it had known what Ombric’s voice sounded like.
With all the rain, the Thing could have been just outside the cabin every day and none of them would have known.
*
By the time Jack and Koz reached the cabin, Koz was ready to drop into bed and sleep for days, but as soon as he opened the door, he knew that wasn’t going to be an option.
Ombric, Katherine, and Nightlight were all sitting at the kitchen table. They looked up in unison as Koz and Jack entered. The room stank of stale apprehension.
Even Jack seemed to realize something was up, straightening his back and looking at the three of them, a whiff of anxiety coiling off his shoulders.
Ombric cleared his throat. “Koz, I’d like to speak with you.”
Koz’s gut twisted. Ombric was using the ‘I’m addressing you because you’re the adult’ voice, which was still anxiety-inducing no matter how old he got because it never meant anything good.
“All right,” Koz said, coming to stand before him.
Katherine wordlessly slipped out of her seat and moved to stand by Nightlight. Koz accepted her chair, dimly aware of Jack coming to stand behind him. The distance between the two of them and the exiles hadn’t felt so large since they’d first showed up. Koz had a feeling he knew what this was about.
“We were thinking,” Ombric said, glancing toward Katherine’s downcast eyes. “Well . . . I was thinking that it might be time for us to . . . to move on.”
His eyes flitted nervously around the table. “This Thing in the Trees . . . I can’t let Katherine and Nightlight stay here with something so dangerous on the loose.”
“I understand,” Koz said with a weary sigh. “That’s the decision I would make if they were my children.”
Ombric nodded uncertainly. “I know it’ll be cramped in the RV, but we were hoping you might come with us.”
Koz opened his mouth to respond and then realized he didn’t know what to say.
Living cramped in an RV wouldn’t be much better or worse than living in the cabin. For a moment, he thought he should stay and deal with the hibernating Black Dog and the Thing in the Trees, but he could always tell Mr. Qwerty about them and another hunter—probably Bunny or North—would deal with them. But . . . Bunny and North were with Sera. Any time they spent dealing with either creature meant time they wouldn’t be spending with her. She needed them.
And could he really leave her? Obviously he already had, but to put even more distance between them?
“I don’t know about Koz,” Jack said, voice cutting through Koz’s thoughts, “but I don’t want to leave my family. I mean, I know I’ll probably never see them again, but just . . .”
“Being near is a comfort,” Koz finished, cocking his head to look up at Jack. The young man smiled at him, appreciative, but still anxious. Koz looked back to Ombric. “Maybe someday we could join you or after the Thing is gone you could come back, but for now it looks like we’ll be parting ways.”
Ombric nodded, clearly unhappy, but resolved.
Koz looked up at Katherine and Nightlight and found the boy looking down at his hands while Katherine looked off to the side, eyes glistening. Koz had to look away. Sometimes, Katherine reminded him too much of Seraphina.
“When do you want to leave?” He asked.
“As soon as we can,” Ombric replied. “Tomorrow, if possible. We have a friend in Missouri with a sturdy building out in the country. We’ll be safe during the full moon, but we need to start driving soon.”
Koz nodded. “You’ll need supplies,” he said. “You can take some food and money for the journey.” He stood, resisting the urge to groan as his body cried out in exhaustion.
“Thank you,” Ombric said, and he sounded like he meant it. Koz reflected that the last time Ombric defected from a group, it was Manny’s pack. The send-off here was probably much different.
“We’ll help you pack,” Koz said.
Ombric nodded. Now he was the one looking teary-eyed.
As the tension in the room slowly diffused and they all moved from the table, Koz reflected that he would miss having the exiles around. Their arrival had been sudden and unwelcome, but they were good people.
He went to the cupboards, mentally planning what foodstuffs would travel best, but first, he started another pot of coffee.
*
The day the exiles left started early. Jack and Katherine brought in the last of the laundry from where they’d hung it outside. Ombric and Nightlight wrapped up the last of the glassware from Ombric’s little lab table and boxed it up. Koz made breakfast.
There was a gloomy mood at the table as they ate. Jack understood why Ombric wanted to leave just as he understood why Koz wanted to stay, but it didn’t make him feel any better.
Koz drove the exiles to the parking lot where they’d stashed the RV. It was a cold, dreary day, though the air was too dry to worry about rain. They were quiet as they loaded the RV with food, lab equipment, and the exiles’ meager belongings.
Jack turned over his disposable cell phone so they could keep in contact with one another, then the group stood awkwardly; ready to say goodbye, but hesitating all the same.
“Well,” Ombric said, adjusting his hat. “I don’t know what to say but thank you for taking us in.”
Koz shook his head. “I’m sorry that we couldn’t provide a more hospitable home,” he said.
‘Thank you for teaching us to Sign,’ Nightlight signed.
“You better keep practicing,” Jack said with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“We will,” Katherine said, pulling Jack into a hug. After a moment of surprise, Jack returned it, giving her a squeeze that spoke volumes.
“Don’t let this punk give you any problems,” Jack said, nodding toward Nightlight.
Nightlight snickered a little bashfully while Katherine turned to Koz. He was glad she’d hugged Jack first; it gave him a little warning for when Katherine stepped into his space and wrapped her arms around his waist. He was reminded so much of Sera it felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He breathed deeply and blinked tears from his eyes as he returned the hug.
“You take care of yourself,” Katherine said, voice just slightly strained as her chest squashed against his.
“You too,” he said. “Take care of that old man of yours.”
Katherine lowered her voice suddenly. “Enjoy your empty love shack.”
Aaaand the nostalgia was gone. Katherine slipped away from him, cheeky grin barely concealed. “We’ll call you once we get to Cupcake’s place in Missouri,” she said cheerily.
Ombric adjusted his glasses, quirking an eyebrow at the girl’s behavior. Katherine and Nightlight exchanged knowing looks. He seemed to know exactly what Katherine had said to make Koz blush.
Jack shot Koz a questioning glance, which Koz ignored. Now that Katherine had put the thought in his head, he couldn’t help but wonder how things sat between him and Jack. Before the exiles came they’d been on friendly, but mostly professionally polite terms. They’d grown decidedly closer while the other three were there—what would happen once they were gone?
But it was too late to worry now. The exiles finished their goodbyes and got in the RV. Koz lead them in his car to the highway, and they waved as the exiles drove past them on a separate ramp, heading south. Then, for the first time in what felt like forever, it was just the two of them.
Katherine’s suggestive comment weighed heavily on his mind. He was very aware of Jack’s presence next to him, hypersensitive to his every motion, so much so that when Jack reached over and adjusted the radio, he thought the boy was reaching to touch his knee and nearly jumped a mile.
Jack snickered. “What, did you forget about me?”
Koz flushed, he’d forgotten how attractive Jack’s voice could be. “Just not used to the quiet,” he lied.
“You’re telling me?” Jack asked as he turned up the radio. “I know I wasn’t into how crowded it was at first, but it’s going to be so weird without those guys.”
Jack found a station playing some Elvis song and stopped, settling back into his seat.
Koz sighed. He almost wished the exiles might change their minds and come back. Without them to distract him, he couldn’t help but notice that Jack was tapping his foot to the beat, and unfortunately, he thought it was absolutely adorable.
*
Koz groaned and pushed away from the desk, rubbing his eyes.
“No luck?” Jack asked.
“I hate research,” Koz said.
“Then take a break,” Jack said from his place at the window, “you could make me some hot cocoa.”
They’d had one night by themselves after the exiles left and it had been enough for them to realize that the exiles had been good for more than just company; their presence had helped keep the room warm at night.
The good news about this at least was that it gave Jack something to do while Koz was researching the Thing in the Trees. The young man worked along the window by the bed, retouching the edges with a caulking gun from the Burgess Walmart.
Koz prepared a cup of tea for himself and heated some milk for Jack’s hot cocoa, tapping his fingers lightly on the tabletop. The television was on, some home makeover show playing as ambient noise. They didn’t have the fire going because Koz worried the smoke from the chimney might alert park rangers, so instead they’d turned on the oven and left the door open. Where Koz stood at their little kitchenette, it was quite cozy.
It was a pleasant day, a domestic moment, and it made Koz slightly queasy. It felt like they were newlyweds in a new home—except without the sex. Not that he wanted for there to be sex.
Koz watched Jack as he crouched to get the crack beneath the windowsill. Koz realized his eyes were on Jack’s rear and quickly looked away. He’d thrown himself back into hunting and research just to avoid thinking like this.
Koz poured powdered chocolate into Jack’s drink and stirred, trying to think of monsters and not Jack’s ass.
“It could be a kapre,” he said, glancing back at the young man as he threw out his tenth suggestion of the day.
“What’s that?” Jack asked mechanically. He smoothed a line of caulking with his finger, succeeding in getting himself further covered in suggestive white goo. Koz took a moment to mentally slap himself before he grabbed a dishrag and Jack’s cocoa.
“How about you take a break?” He asked, offering Jack the towel.
Jack’s eyes jumped from the towel to the cocoa. “Don’t mind if I do!” He said, quickly scrubbing his hands clean before accepting the mug.
Koz retrieved his tea and the two of them sat on the bed, leaning against the wall on either side of the window. The chill of the wall behind him and the scent of fresh plaster helped to pull him away from his dirty thoughts.
“So tell me about this thing you mentioned,” Jack said, sipping from the steaming mug.
“A kapre,” Koz said, “is a Philippine tree spirit.”
“So it spends time in the trees.”
Koz nodded. “It’s also dark in color, has a human-like face, is capable of human speech, and is fond of leading travelers astray.”
Jack sipped his drink. “But?”
Koz let out an exasperated sigh. “They’re supposed to have a very strong scent. The Thing doesn’t smell good but its scent is no more intense than the average animal. And they’re not considered dangerous so much as mischievous. It’s unlikely one would prey on humans.”
Jack nodded and responded as he usually did: by proposing a monster he’d heard of on television.
“What about a . . . sasquatch?”
Koz shook his head. “Technically we’re in Yeti territory.”
“Oh yes, of course,” Jack said, sipping his cocoa. “What about them?”
“Vegetarians,” Koz said simply. “And it’s a good thing North isn’t here or he’d be cross with you.”
“Oh?”
“He came to America when he smuggled a tribe of Yeti from Russia to Alaska so they could meet with their sister tribe.”
“So you’re going through so much trouble finding what this thing is because of invasive cryptoids and your buddy smuggled yetis and elves into the country?” Jack grinned over the lip of his mug and Koz scowled.
“Don’t worry, we made it a point to harass him about it,” Koz said.
“Hmmm . . .” Jack hummed as he sipped his drink. “What about um . . . a wendigo? Or wait—are wendigos shaped like humans or horses?”
“They’re immortal cannibals—they look like humans. And they do tend to hunt from treetops—they can mimic human speech too. But they tend to save their prey, not eat them outright. But why would they look like horses?”
“They did on My Little Pony,” Jack said sheepishly.
“Ah . . .” Koz nodded. “Probably because there aren’t humans in My Little Pony. But apparently there are immortal cannibal ponies.” He snickered and looked to Jack, only to find the boy watching him with a quirked eyebrow.
“So I have a sister young enough to enjoy My Little Pony, but what’s your excuse for knowing there’s no humans in it?”
Koz opened his mouth to speak and winced. The explanation was terrible. “North owns all the DVDs . . . it’s the only way he can get the elves to go down for their nap.”
Jack choked and sloshed hot cocoa across his lap, cracking up hard enough, he even made Koz chuckle. The thought of putting elves down for naps would probably be funnier to him if it weren’t so nightmarish in reality. . . of course, sleepy, cranky elves were much, much worse.
Feeling slightly rejuvenated, but not enough to return to research, Koz helped Jack finish prepping the house for winter. Every corner and crack needed to be gone over with plaster and caulking—the cabin was tremendously drafty. This task was made more unpleasant by the cabin’s monster proofing. After doing the outside of the window ledge, Jack had to do the inside, which was protected by iron bars. Every now and then Jack’s humming would be interrupted by a curse as he burnt his fingers on the iron.
Koz faced a similar problem as he touched up the edges between the floor and baseboards, which were made of mountain ash. The cold weather and the Thing’s ever-lingering threat had forced them to close the cabin door. Unfortunately this meant that the mountain ash circle along the bottom wall of the cabin was complete and its influence as a monster repellant was even stronger.
Koz’s fingers had long since gone numb from the mountain ash’s stinging effect when he could finally put the plaster canister down. But then he got to put his tingling hands to use moving the bed out of the way so they could unroll their newly purchased rug.
The room felt almost instantly warmer with the addition of the new rug—what a difference it made to not stand on a cold floor!
Koz gathered up all the plaster and caulking supplies, crawled down into the cave beneath the cabin, and carefully stashed their house-repair materials. By the time he hauled himself back up and covered the trap door with the edge of the rug, he was very sore and quite filthy, but it was Jack’s turn to make dinner and that meant gooey comfort food.
Jack wasn’t the most eloquent of chefs and the majority of his cooking repertoire consisted of foods an eight-year-old would love, like boxed macaroni, frozen chicken nuggets, and instant ramen. Koz wasn’t complaining; canned tomato soup and grilled cheese sounded absolutely perfect.
The two of them curled up in bed and ate, spilling a few drops of soup and a ton of crumbs as they watched some cold case mystery show.
Koz kept thinking he’d get up and clean their dishes or at least clean himself, but he was tired and Jack was cozy under the blankets with him, so instead of doing either of those things, he slipped into unconsciousness, his last thought an amused reflection that they’d ended the day just as much like newlyweds as they’d started.
*****
Koz woke in the middle of the night with the hair on the back of his neck standing on end and the distinct impression that someone was standing over him. He saw nothing. He wiggled his fingers experimentally, wondering if he was just having a case of sleep paralysis, but his hands moved just fine. Still, he had the distinct impression of being watched; he even thought he could hear breathing besides theirs.
Jack flinched suddenly against him. “Shit!” He shot up and the spell seemed to break. Whatever Koz had felt suddenly disappeared.
‘Holy shit!” Jack said again. “Koz, did you see that?”
“I didn’t see it,” Koz said, “but I felt it.” Jack reeked of fear, and with a tired groan, Koz sat up and flicked the light switch. He could smell Jack’s anxiety lessen.
Koz lay back down with a yawn. “It was probably just a ghost.” His eyelids were too heavy and he let them drop closed. “I think it’s John, he’s been here a while.”
“What?” Jack’s voice was a tad high-pitched. His anxiety had gone up again.
Koz cracked an eye open. “You know how we all kept getting little feelings of dread when we were in our wolf forms? That was him.” He patted the spot beside him.
Jack didn’t lie down next to him, much to Koz’s dismay. He still wasn’t quite warm enough to drift off again.
“Are you serious?” Jack demanded. “A ghost?”
“It didn’t leave a scent. It could be felt but not always seen.” He cracked an eye open. “More likely to be seen by a child.” He smirked at the scowl this comment brought on.
“There was a ghost just standing over us and you want to go back to sleep?” Jack demanded
Koz sighed. “It’s not like it is in the movies,” he said, “ghosts are hardly even active, let alone violent. We probably won’t see him again for months.”
Jack looked around the room one last time before slowly settling in next to Koz. “Are you sure it’s safe?” He asked.
Koz squirmed, freeing one arm so he could throw it around Jack’s shoulders and pull him close. “It’s fine,” he said. “I promise.” Jack was still restless against him, but he seemed to relax against him. “Thanks for leaving the light on,” he said into the curve of Koz’s neck.
Koz smiled softly as the boy’s breath tickled his neck. “You’re welcome.”
***
Jack lay awake for hours, long after Koz had dozed off. He could just feel himself beginning to nod off when he heard a scratching noise. His eyes snapped open. For a moment he lay frozen, heart pounding and ears strained. Then he heard it again: a faint scratching, scraping noise from beneath the floor. Jack strained his hearing, but the echo of the river underground was too confusing to make out anything but the distinct sound of something scratching at the underside of the trap door’s lid.
“Koz” Jack hissed, shaking the man’s shoulder. “Koz!”
Koz groaned and rolled over, wrapping his arms around Jack and grumbling softly.
If this had been any other situation, Jack would have teased Koz forever about this, but there was a fucking ghost under their house. “Koz,” Jack said in exasperation. “The ghost is making noises.” He realized as soon as he said it how pathetic he sounded.
Koz yawned. “Ghosts do that,” he said, face pressed against Jack’s hair. “S’ fine.” He held Jack closer, cuddling him like a teddy bear. “Go back to sleep,” he slurred.
Jack did not go back to sleep. Not even after the scratching stopped. The knowledge that the cabin was haunted put a pit in the bottom of his stomach. He’d come to think of the cabin as . . . his. A safe space for him to share with Koz and the exiles. Now the space felt different, tense with an unseen, lingering sense of danger. It felt like being at his parent’s house.
When morning came, Jack was exhausted and antsy.
Jack had been getting used to early mornings since Ombric usually got up at the crack of dawn. He’d been looking forward to being able to sleep in now that the exiles were gone. Unfortunately, he forgot that Koz was a morning person too. He lay in bed, wide-awake and grumpy while Koz bustled around the kitchen, seemingly unperturbed by the night’s events.
Jack watched him from his place on the bed. “Are we going to do something about our . . . ‘guest’?” He asked, trying not to sound as cranky as he was feeling.
Koz quirked an eyebrow at his tone, but didn’t address it. “I think the Black Dog and the Thing in the Trees are a higher priority . . .” He snapped his mouth shut at the sight of Jack’s scowling face. “ . . . Or we could take care of the ghost first. But before that: breakfast.”
He scooped what he’d been cooking onto a pair of plates and brought them to the bed.
Jack noted darkly that he’d made the eggs sunny-side up. He picked up his fork and tried not to sulk too much as he picked his way around the yolks.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t as concerned as you last night,” Koz said gingerly. “I can assure you, I wouldn’t have been so flippant if we were really in danger.”
Jack huffed through his nose and started in on his ham. “I just wish I actually knew what I was doing,” he grumbled. “Like if I knew ghosts were such a non-threat that I could just go back to sleep right after seeing one.”
“Well . . .” Koz tried at a smile. “I didn’t see it, just felt it . . . I promise you,” he said, “most ghosts are completely harmless. Really the worst they can do is make you uncomfortable. Most are helpful—they aren’t even violent unless they have a grudge.”
Jack rolled his eyes as his knife scraped across his plate. “Why would a guy killed by werewolves have a grudge against werewolves moving into his space?” He shoved ham into his mouth and scowled at how un-phased Koz looked.
“Ghosts aren’t very good at processing new information or remembering things that have happened after they’ve died—John didn’t know I was a werewolf when I died, so he probably still thinks of me as a hunter. He didn’t know you at all when he was alive, you are a non-entity to him; he won’t bother you.”
A non-entity. Jack was in a bad enough mood to feel a little hurt by that—no matter how silly it sounded.
Koz eyed Jack. “Did you get any sleep?”
Jack shook his head and Koz offered him a sympathetic look. He stood suddenly, holding out a hand for Jack’s finished plate. He took it and put both their dishes in the sink, then started rummaging through the upper cabinets.
“Here!” He said suddenly, pulling a plastic bottle out from amid an assortment of spices and baking ingredients.
Jack stood up to accept the bottle as Koz offered it to him. It was an ordinary spice bottle—the generic brand even, inside he could see more than a dozen full leaves squashed in together. Jack’s experience level in cooking was not high enough to recognize the herb immediately, so he had to read the label.
“Sage?” He looked up at Koz incredulously. “Seriously?”
Koz was busy rooting around in the cabinet drawers until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a lighter with a flourish.
Jack looked back at the sage bottle. “I’ve heard of using burning sage before but . . . doesn’t it need to be y’know special sage? Not kitchen sage?”
Koz chuckled as he took the bottle back and unscrewed the cap. “You can use regular garlic against vampires, garden monkswood against werewolves, and kitchen salt against loads of creatures. Keep in mind, medieval peasants were the ones to drive monsters into mythology.”
Jack quirked an eyebrow. “Huh.”
Koz took out a few sage leaves and gave the bottle back to Jack. “The real trick is getting it to smoke without instantly burning it or your fingers.” He gently introduced the flame to the leaf bundle, dancing the leaf tips just out of the flames reach. After a moment or two, a coil of smoke trailed upward and instantly Koz jerked back, nearly dropping the lighter as he turned his head away. “Christ!”
“What?” Jack asked, startled.
Koz waved the leaves slightly. “For the love of God, please take it,” he wheezed.
Jack took the un-singed end from Koz as quickly as he could so Koz could cover his mouth and nose with both hands. “I hadn’t smelled burning sage since I got my wolf sense of smell,” he said, his voice muffled behind his hands as he breathed in shallow gasps.
Jack resisted the urge to laugh. “Are you okay?” He asked.
Koz nodded, face drawn. He moved one hand away from his face while the other held his nose. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m all right, I just wasn’t expecting that.” He held out a hand for the sage, but of course he was holding his nose the entire time he said this, so his voice was nasally and weird. Jack couldn’t help but snicker.
Koz took the leaves and with the bitterest look on his face, he began to wave the leaves gently around himself and over his face. Jack sat back, watching the display, and then apparently it was his turn. Koz waved the leaves around him as well, and no, it wasn’t the most pleasant of smells.
Finally Koz left Jack’s side and headed, of all places, into the bathroom. Jack sat on the bed and craned his neck to watch as Koz blessed the little room, reciting (again, of all things) the Lord’s Prayer. This sounded far too entertaining when spoken in a funny, nasally voice with a British accent. Jack was definitely leaving ‘sleepy and grumpy’ and getting into ‘tired and easily entertained’.
“So how does this work?” He asked as Koz left the bathroom, tracing the bathroom’s door frame with sage smoke. “Does . . . Does the power of Christ compel him to go?”
Koz gently waved the sage bundle, wincing at the sharp scent. “The way it was explained to me was that belief is a very powerful thing. There are some creatures whose very existence relies on their being believed in—so much so that even hunters debate on whether they’re real.”
“So wait—“ Jack’s eyes widened. “Does that mean—is it like Peter Pan? If you say ‘I don’t believe in—‘ you know! Will a fairy die? Are we talking about fairies is what I’m asking.”
Koz smiled weakly, his brow furrowed, either from the sharp scent or in concentration. “You said you heard scratching beneath the floor?”
Jack nodded. “Under the trapdoor.”
Koz made his way to the trap door, gesturing for Jack to follow him. “In answer to your question,” he said, “no. It seems the decline of fairies is due mostly to a loss of natural habitat.” He lifted the trap door and offered the leaves to Jack. “It’s probably obvious to you that words have power—‘the pen is mightier than the sword’ and all that—but when you add the power of words with the power of belief, you can get some very intense results—especially if you have several thousand years for the belief to flourish,” Koz spoke as he lowered himself down into the hole.
Koz reached up for the sage and Jack was quick to give it to him. He didn’t like their little ‘crawl space’. He didn’t care that it was most likely totally safe; it was creepy as hell.
Koz disappeared for a moment into the darkness, heading to the very back of the little cavern beneath the cabin. Jack could hear him mumbling the Lord’s Prayer again and in a moment, Koz reappeared, walking backward and waving the sage leaves gently. When he finally turned, he offered the leaves to Jack once more while he climbed out.
“That’s why Bible verses work to repel certain spirits—or so it was explained to me. It’s also why Bible verses only work on creatures that Christians believe in. If the Bible works against ghosts just because people believe it will, then it won’t work on creatures that believers have never heard of.” Koz took the leaves from Jack and closed the trapdoor, once more tracing the lines of the door with smoke before he moved on to the farthest corner of the cabin.
Jack rocked back on his heels as Koz recited the prayer once more, slowly moving across the room, making his way toward the door. Remarkably, he was starting to feel better. Less anxious, more calm. Either this sage thing really worked or sage was just secretly a downer masquerading as a kitchen herb.
Long before the exiles had come to stay with them, they’d tied a leather lead around the door handle so the mountain ash ring wouldn’t zap their hands whenever they had to get in and out of the cabin. Koz used this to open the door, breaking the protective barrier. A cold waft of air greeted the both of them and Jack flinched and moved out of line of the draft, but keeping in sight of Koz. He watched as Koz finished tracing the cabin doorway with smoke, and offered Jack a smile weakened only by the obnoxious scent. “That’ll keep the place ghost-free for a while,” he said, his breathing shallow. “In the meantime, I’ll start on a more permanent solution.” He turned and walked down the cabin steps, putting out the smoky leaves on the cold ground.
“Burn his bones?” Jack probed, stepping closer to the door.
“Yes,” Koz let out an amusing old-man grunt as he straightened. “Usually just burying the body works, but a particularly restless spirit might need to be burned and I’d rather do the latter first than bury him and dig him up later.”
Jack nodded. “Do you think you’ll be able to find his bones again?”
Koz shook his head as he started up the steps and moved back into the house. “I need to get some supplies from Mr. Qwerty first, and you should take a nap.”
Jack’s shoulders sagged and he bit his lip. He’d watched the whole sage thing, and he did feel a little better, but the thought of being alone in the cabin still sounded a little creepy. “I don’t—“
“I promise,” Koz said sternly, “the sage is extremely effective. I’ll close the door behind myself, so you won’t have to worry about the Thing in the Trees either.”
Jack quirked an eyebrow. “What about you, Mr. ‘Nobody Goes Out Alone’?”
“I am a fully trained hunter,” Koz said. “And I carry weapons. I can take care of myself. Dead on your feet as you are, you wouldn’t be much help anyway.”
“Thanks.” Jack frowned; the comment stung just the slightest bit. He hated feeling useless. He wrapped his arms around himself, wishing Koz would close the door already.
“I’ll see if I can find my notebook from when I first started hunting,” Koz said. “That should help you learn a thing or two about hunting, like how to make an actual smudging stick.”
That . . . was actually tempting. “Okay . . .” Jack said.
“All right,” Koz said with a nod. Jack watched as Koz put on his holster (oh, he’d forgotten how good Koz looked in a holster), tucked away his handgun, threw on a jacket, and grabbed his keys.
Jack walked Koz to the door to close it behind him. “I hope you have a good nap,” Koz said.
“Have a good trip,” Jack replied automatically.
Koz turned to Jack and paused, like he’d forgotten what he was doing mid-motion. For one weird moment, Jack thought that Koz was going to kiss him goodbye. He even thought to return the gesture. Then they both abruptly turned away from one another.
Koz cleared his throat. “I’ll see you later,” he said.
“Yeah,” Jack replied, his face warm. “See you.”
Koz closed the door behind him and almost immediately the room felt gloomier and larger than it had in months. Jack took a few hesitant steps backward, eyeing the room’s shadows. His ankles hit the mattress, and he jumped, imagination leaping to the Sixth Sense before he remembered that their mattress had sat on the floor ever since they’d broken it during that first full moon together.
He eased down onto the bed. A thump echoed outside and he started—but it was only Koz closing the car door. For a moment, he thought, ‘I can still catch him if I hurry. I could go with.’ But then he realized how silly that sounded. Just a few weeks ago, before the exiles appeared, he was wondering how he could get Koz out of the cabin and get some time to himself.
He pulled up the covers.
Without extending his hearing, he could just hear Koz drive away. The cabin and the forest seemed obscenely quiet, in a terrifying way that had nothing to do with the ghost from the night before. Jack swallowed as he remembered the last time he was alone in this cabin; he’d been hiding from a pack of werewolves.
‘But’, he mentally chided himself, ‘you know now that the werewolves can’t get in. And even if they did—even if Manny himself got in here, it still smells like burning sage.’
Jack snickered at the mental image of suave, creepy Manny recoiling the way Koz had earlier.
He felt a little better for the laugh, but the room still felt bizarre and empty. Maybe if he turned on the television? Or he could get out the laptop and finally finish that Teen Wolf fic he’d started.
Ugh, but that had smut in it and then he’d get all horny and—
Oh.
Sweet Jesus.
He could masturbate.
The thought sent a rush down through the pit of his stomach. It had been a while. A long, long while. He glanced at the door. It was locked. Even if Koz came back at an awkward time, Jack could hide the worst of it before letting him in. He sat up and reached for the window. They’d gotten curtains to help make the room a little warmer—now he was glad for another reason. With the curtains closed, he had a sense of privacy.
Now, was there anything slick he could use? Why did they have to be such boys? Jack’s mother had always ensured they’d had Vaseline or lotion somewhere in the house (of course she didn’t know what her son mostly used them for). And lube was totally out of the question. He’d never used cooking oil and didn’t know if it was okay (and the growing throb in his crotch couldn’t wait for him to double check online).
Fuck it; he’d use spit until he’d worked up a good pre-come.
He undid his fly and hauled his pants and underwear down to his knees. His cock stood half-erect already. The chill in the air was unpleasant, but that made the thought of wrapping his hands around himself all the more appealing. He didn’t touch himself just yet though. Instead, he lay back, hiking up his hoodie and t-shirt, his eager body already sensitive to the gentle scrape of fabric over his chest.
He grabbed one of their pillows and tucked it beneath his head, making sure he was good and comfortable before he began.
He started slowly, reaching one hand under his shirt while the other rested against his stomach. His fingers were cool on his nipple and he started in surprise before relaxing. He bit his lip, enjoying how the nipple hardened under his cool fingers nearly as much as he enjoyed his fingers gently pinching and circling it.
The throb between his legs grew more insistent.
He ignored it, knowing it’d be more intense if he held back just a bit—besides, he did enjoy having his chest stroked. He brought the hand on his stomach up under his shirt as well, hiking his shirt up further. His thighs tensed slightly, splaying apart as far as the jeans around his knees would allow.
What a sight he’d be. He wondered what Koz would think. His heart picked up and he felt his pulse race through his erection. Would Koz be turned on? . . . What would he do?
Jack swallowed, face flushing as his imagination roared to life. He closed his eyes as he remembered the first time they’d kissed. Koz had looked delicious with the sun hitting his tan skin; water glistening on his exposed chest, his toned stomach and lower abdomen like something straight out of a wet dream. And he’d been a good kisser! God, Jack gasped aloud just remembering the way it felt to be pressed up against Koz’s hard body, lips locked, hands roaming over his back and shoulders and up through his hair.
Jack throbbed. He opened his eyes and let out a breathless laugh. He snaked his warmed hands down from beneath his hoodie, slowly trailing down his navel. As he dragged his nails through the coarse hair beneath his stomach, he stared at his pale thighs and envisioned dark hands sliding over his heated flesh. Koz’s hands would be rough from calluses, he thought before a prickle of guilt nicked at his mind.
He shouldn’t be imagining Koz like this should he? He shoved the thought away. Whatever weird pervy things he thought of when he was like this were his and his alone.
Imaginary Koz got back to work, gripping Jack’s slim thighs and parting them enough that he could slide between Jack’s knees. Jack’s pants and underwear slipped down to his ankles as he spread his legs.
He brought a hand to his mouth and gave it a sloppy, wet lick before he brought it back down, finally taking his erection in his slick palm.
He sighed, relaxing into the touch as he gently stroked himself. For a moment he lay still, enjoying the rush of pleasure that chased its way up his spine. The cabin was dim; the only sounds to be heard were his unsteady breathing. He took one last look at his hand gliding over his cock and then let his head fall back onto the pillow. His eyes rolled shut as his jaw relaxed and he panted openly.
He imagined Koz’s hot breath ghosting over his crotch and it nearly felt too unbelievable that Koz might suck his cock—but then he remembered the last time they’d made out, at the party. Jack had rutted up between Koz’s legs, unintentionally, revelling in the sensation of pressing his dick against the inside of Koz’s thighs. He’d immediately feared he’d gone too far, unaware of Koz’s experiences with men, unsure of his interest in taking instead of giving. He’d nearly expected Koz to stop but he’d only come at Jack with more enthusiasm.
“Fuck,” Jack groaned, thighs tensing. How experienced was Koz? Would he rock Jack’s world or—Jack nearly laughed at the thought—would he be shy?
Pre-come leaked from Jack’s slit and he smeared it across the head of his cock. His breath caught at the feeling of slick heat enveloping him. A few pumps had his erection coated just enough to make each touch feel like heaven. Jack’s thighs trembled and his toes curled. His hands slid quickly up and down his shaft. No one was there to overhear him, so he let out any sound that came to him, filling the air with soft moans and the obscene, wet noise of his hands pumping his cock.
His thoughts were scattered as his orgasm neared. A few furious strokes brought him close, but still it danced just out of his reach. He whimpered, swallowed, and grit his teeth, mind grasping for anything to help him get over the edged. He pictured Koz’s lips wrapping around him, the pleasant drag of teeth down his stomach, the musky scent of Koz’s sex as Jack tasted him. Koz above him, pushing inside, sweat making threads of hair cling to his forehead. Koz beneath him, back arched as Jack’s cock was engulfed in his heat. He could just picture Koz’s smile—that dirty, lecherous grin he sometimes put on—just barely held in place as he groaned—
Jack’s back arched, his stomach tensed as his head pressed back into the pillow. He let out a helpless cry out as he climaxed, pleasure tearing up his spine and along his limbs. He panted hard, stroking himself through it, smearing semen across his over-sensitive cock until the last of his orgasm dispersed into a pleasurable haze. He let go of himself and lay there, boneless and panting, not minding the wetness on his hands and stomach.
When his trembling limbs finally felt strong enough to support himself, he got up, cleaned himself off, and then flopped onto the bed. Thoughts of ghosts and werewolves and tree-bound monsters disappeared as he sank into sleep, dreaming instead of warm arms holding him, gentle and firm, like Jack were their own teddy bear.
