An Eye For An Eye

Quarante-Sept

It had been afternoon when we had left the cottage even though we had set out at ten and it was an hour walk. Deuc simply explained it as magic, it was similar to why Briar looked twenty when they were apparently eighty years old as a minimum. We had half an hour to ourselves before the pack’s druid visited.

“Marin Morrell, this is Liza Blakesley. Liza, this is Marin Morrell, you’ve met her brother, Dr. Deaton.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, holding her hand out to me. I shook it and smiled.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” I said while nodding.
“Alan sends his thanks for the flowers,” she said. “I don’t know which of you sent them but I have an idea.”
I laughed a little. “It was me,” I said. “I sent them as a thank you.”
“He liked them,” she said before turning to Deuc.

Awkwardly, I watched as she examined his eyes. He looked bored with it.
“It looks like he’s done as well as he can,” she finally said with a sigh. “I told you not to meet with him when you called.”
“Just like Talia and Deaton,” he muttered.
“Yes, they were right to advise you not to,” she said. Clearly, she was annoyed at being ignored. I still felt out of place, like I should have waited in the kitchen or upstairs, out of the way. Deuc had said to stay.
“I’ll make sure to consider your advice more next time,” he muttered as he stood up. Morrell glared at him.

Deuc slowly headed towards the kitchen.
“How are you feeling?” she asked and he stopped in the doorway. His head tilted to the side slightly, as he sometimes did, usually when he was bored or thinking.
“What do you think I’m feeling?” he asked. There was that coldness again, like there had been when he had talked to Jack.
“I can only guess, why don’t you tell me yourself?”

He sighed and then turned to face her.
“You and your damn psychology,” he muttered. He had mentioned she was better with psychology rather than physical healing. “I’m angry, alright?”
“Anything else?” she asked, stepping towards him. His fingers gripped the door frame tightly and I wondered if I should try to calm him down or de-escalate whatever this situation was.
“I wish I’d have ripped his throat out after pulling his eyes from their sockets, are you happy, Ms. Morrell?”

I looked away from him and shuddered. I didn’t want the image of him doing that to Gerard in my head. He had been so close to doing it too, I could almost see it in my head.
“There’s no point in being angry at him,” she said firmly. “It will hold you back.”
“It doesn’t seem to be holding me back at the moment,” Deuc said, almost growling at her. It sounded like he wanted to attack her out of anger but he didn’t. “And why shouldn’t I be angry? He’s blinded me and taken three of my Betas and that led to Marco and Becca’s deaths too.”

“You have to accept it,” she said calmly but Morrell had no chance of calming him down. And that was the wrong thing to say.
“Accept it?” His voice got louder with every word. “I am accepting it, I will be weaker and I cannot fight well if I cannot see who or what I am fighting. Half of my pack is questioning my decisions but one of them is far too anxious to disagree with me so I suppose he doesn’t really count.” He was referring to Charles and his voice was still getting louder.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the memories flooding my mind. But the yelling just reminded me of Dad…

But the room was silent.

“If I need your help and advice, Ms. Morrell, I’ll be sure to call or visit.” Opening my eyes again, I watched Morrell grab her bag and head to the front door.
“Don’t let your anger consume you, Deucalion.”

He said nothing and we both heard the door shut.

“Deuc…” I started but I didn’t know how to carry on. I didn’t know what to say to him.
“I’m sorry, Liza. You shouldn’t have heard that,” he said. His grip on the door frame had relaxed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you to say down here.”

Slowly, I stood and walked over to him.
“You really are angry,” I said softly. He nodded. As I held his hand, the tension seemed to fade away and he took a deep breath.
“I am, how can I not be? Ignoring Marco and Becca, and the blindness. We lost three people, good people, Liza. I trusted them with my life and they trusted me and now they’re dead. That makes me weaker.”

“You’re not weak,” I argued. Even though he was weaker, he had managed to easily grab Gerard and almost kill him. I could imagine what he would have done if he had his full strength. “You’re anything but weak.”
“Oh, Liza, I know I’m not weak but I’m weaker. Whatever is killing the wendigos is strong, I would have to take the majority of my pack with me before to deal with even a wendigo. How am I going to deal with this?”

I didn’t have an answer for him and I desperately wished I did.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. I couldn’t think of anything else to tell him and I didn’t want to lie anyway. “But we’ll find a way.”
“Will we?”
“Yes,” I said, mustering up enough confidence and conviction as I could. “I can look through the books and maybe I can read them to you, maybe we can find something.”

“Liza…” he said and I stopped talking. “I… you’re wonderful.” I smiled at him.
“So are you, is there anything I can do to help?” I asked him. I didn’t want him to be angry, he had said before that I helped with that.
“I just want to hear your voice,” he said quietly.
I nodded. “Okay. I can talk to you, or read to you. I managed to write a little before Ms. Morrell got here.”

“Can you read to me then?” I took a step back, towards the sofa and the glass coffee table where the red notebook was. He walked with me and I smiled.
“Of course I can, mon chéri,” I said. He smiled at me.
“Mon chéri is French,” he said.
“Do you like it, mon chéri?” I asked with a grin.
His smile widened. “I do like it, my love.”