The Link 3 - The Huntress

Chapter 6 - Caleb

Teegan movements woke me. I smiled as she curled her body deeper into mine, maximizing the contact of our skin. She was warm, but not uncomfortably so, and very naked. I tried to feign sleep and enjoy the closeness.

"Jason's dead," Teegan whispered. Her voice was raspy like she had overused it. The memories came back, that soldier with the knife. I remembered sinking my hatred into him, ripping his mind into shreds of rambling thoughts. I sucked in my breath; I was going to kill them all. They were on their knees, frozen by my will, waiting for me to finish off the attacker.

"Oh god," I said with a long exhale.

"You left me again," Teegan whispered, her head buried in my shoulder. "You became something horrible."

"I'm sorry," I said. Teegan lifted her head above mine. Her eyes had dark circles and tinged with red. I could see them filling again as they must have done most of the night.

"Jason died," Teegan repeated, then the dam burst and I pulled her tight to me. Her whole body began to sob in exhaustive fits. My tears began, more for what Jason's death meant to Teegan than the death alone. I could see her memories of the bond with him. In a way, a lifetime of love was shared. Teegan's soul was scarred. Her scars became my scars.

"No," I said forcibly when her thoughts led toward her thinking the world would have been better if the bullet hit her instead of Zane. "All of this...this crap isn't your fault."

"No," Teegan agreed, "but the fact remains that people are dying. Lives are ruined because I exist."

"I'm better off," I said. My selfishness leaked into the words. Her love was part of me, and I don't think I could live without it.

"Yes," Teegan said, "I have cursed you as well." I was going to contradict her but knew words were useless in the grief. She knew my feelings well enough and right then, she needed to be held while she suffered. Jason's death required mourning and Teegan required me. Neither would be denied.

*****

The sun was battling with the curtains when I woke again. Teegan's dark eyes were closed and her mouth open, drooling on my chest. It would have been funny had I not known that she had passed out from exhaustion. I held her until I was sure her breathing was steady. Sleep would do more for her than my weak attempts at consoling. I shifted slowly, carefully replacing my chest with a pillow. Teegan barely moved, I couldn't even sense any dreams. I chanced a kiss on her forehead then moved off to get dressed. My clothes from the day before lay clean and folded on the dresser. Evelyn was true to her word. I left the room quietly and headed downstairs to explore.

"Mr. McGuire?" A woman surprised me when I reached the lower steps. She was dressed in dark blue slacks with a gold badge on her hip, wrapped around a black belt. Her collared white polo shirt was a little tight, emphasizing parts a man shouldn't be eyeing. It's not that she was well endowed, it was the blatant advertising. I was glad that Teegan was asleep and not privy to my thoughts.

"Yes," I said, forcing my eyes to hers. She looked to be in her thirties with straight blondish-brown hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. Her eyes were alert and intelligent, though her face wanted me to think otherwise. It's the look a teacher gives a student when she's trying to find a new way to explain a complex topic. Condescending eyes, but compassionate face.

"Hi," she said brightly, "I'm detective Cruthers, Portland PD." She held out her hand, and I hesitantly shook it, knowing I was at a knowledge disadvantage. "I'm investigating the death of Jason Tisdale."

"Yes, of course," I replied. Cruthers paused a moment, maybe thinking I would offer information without being asked. "I'd ask you to sit down," I added, "but I'm new here and don't know my way around."