Page 9 of Memories Like Fangs
It was just the rhythm of Byrd’s crying against my chest and the warm ache echoing in my own heart. My arms had grown stiff from embracing her so tightly and strongly for so long, but I didn’t dare shift. Not even a little. Not until she was ready. I was letting her take the lead. But, I would happily become stone if it meant giving my girl something solid to cling to as her world felt like it was falling apart. If holding her like this could draw out even the thinnest thread of her pain, I would stay. For as long as it took. As long as she needed me.
Against my collarbone, her breath hitched. For a moment, everything was just that sound: the unsteady inhale, the pause in between, the exhale that sounded too tired for someone so young. Then, her breathing steadied, the tide starting to calm and ebb. Her sobs had just slowed into hiccups, the kind that caught at the end of a breath like her body forgot how to be still. The echoes trembled through me, but the grief and other bigfeelings were easing to leave a numbness along with a blossom of love and gratitude.
Byrd pulled back, only slightly. I kept my arms around her, but I loosened my hold enough to let her breathe while I reminded her I was still there. I wasn’t ever going anywhere.
Her nose and cheeks were a blushing red that would have been adorable under other circumstances. Byrd’s eyes were still wet and glossy from unshed tears. This was one of the few times that I had seen Byrd without makeup, but I always thought that her makeup only enhanced the natural beauty underneath. Calling Byrd beautiful was an understatement, but my heart squeezed at how even more stunning she managed to be like this when she was so vulnerable and soft.
Byrd sniffled. One of her hands came up to swipe at her face in clumsy, tired motions, being mindful of her sharp, long nails. Meanwhile, her other hand gripped her obsidian necklace tight enough to turn her knuckles white. I reached up and brushed any tears she missed with my thumbs.
“I’m so sorry. I ruined another one of your shirts,” she said hoarsely before clearing her throat. Her eyes didn’t quite meet mine, staying locked on my shirt.
I glanced down at the large wet patch on my shirt, the black fabric dark and soaked all the way into my sports bra underneath.
“Don’t apologize, Sweetness. I don’t care about the shirt. I only care about you.”
“Me?” Byrd gave a weak breath of laughter that was barely a sound. “You should definitely care more about the shirt.”
I furrowed my eyebrows. When she didn’t expand on that, I took her face in my hands and pulled it up to look at me. Only once she made eye contact with me did I ask, “What do you mean, baby girl?”
“The shirt can be fixed.Ican’t be.”
“I don’t want to fix you?—”
“Youshould!” Byrd yelled, her voice cracking. “You should want to fix me!Iwant to fix me! Because this? This hasbrokenme. I don’t know how I can move past this. I don’t know how to cope and deal with this. I don’t know what to do. I mean, that’s my mom up there! She’s dead and hanging up like a… a…”
Byrd started to cry again. She covered her face as more tears poured from her eyes. I felt a piece of my heart break off and float down the stream of her grief. I pulled her into me again, kissing her head and rubbing her back again. I sat there, holding her until she was ready to speak again.
When she was, she pulled back and pressed her hands into my chest as if she needed me to anchor her and ensure she didn’t drift away. She looked up at me with those beautiful brown eyes that were oceans. I just wanted to pick her up and never let her experience hurt ever again.
Her question was a whisper that shook me to my core. “Did you know?”
There was no malice in it. Not even curiosity. I felt through our bond that she knew the answer already. She just needed to hear it out loud for her own sake.
Whatever you need to get through this, I will provide or kill to give you,mi vida.
“No,” I replied.“I swear I had no idea, Byrd. I didn’t even know his office looked like this. I wasn’t ever allowed up here. But this breaks our code, which is very clear. We don’t treat the deceased like this. The Hunter’s Council takes this incredibly seriously and punishes severely.”
If I don’t take care of him first.I fought the urge to clench my fists. No one hurts my girl and lives too much longer afterward.
He had already taken too many breaths for my sake.
“Wait,” Byrd said, looking back at her mother. “If Mom is up there, does that mean… Could it be… Your father killed my mom? Was he that man… the one who took her away…?”
An image of my father’s soot-covered dragon-scaled hunting jacket and bloodied gloves on that day came to mind in that instant. That day, fourteen years ago… the last dragon-shifter he ever hunted.
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
I had spent years trying to forget as many details of that case as I possibly could. Even before my father had sent Hunters to surveil the target and gain insight into her routine, the case file from the Hunter Council’s Investigation Team was fat as fuck. It was full of eyewitness accounts from humans that the Hunters had to wipe the memories of, as well as statements from the surviving hunters. There were also countless pictures of the victims and their wounds. But, what stood out to me most was the photos of the dragon-shifter, the creature who required a team to be taken down, had melted the victims into ash, and haunted the Hunter’s Council enough that they called for revenge.
It was just awoman.
The candid snapshots of her at home and her professional work photos showed a young woman with a normal life. She was gorgeous, and reminded me so much of my own mother with her radiant smile, always-red lipstick, and stylish outfits. Her long, tight ringlets were usually down and styled into the perfect afro. She was a teacher, and every shot of her with kids just showed how good she was at it. The surveillance pictures told the story of her as she was on the verge of giving birth, ready to pop at any moment. It was why the hunters had attacked when they did, but my father always called that foolish. He always saw supernatural creatures as animals, but these pictures… Not only was shenot some monster that needed to be taken down, but I saw a woman being happy, a Teacher of the Year, and someone about to become a mother. As much as I tried to forget that case that had changed the course of my family, one picture always stood out: that same woman smiling into the camera for a professional photo. Her dark skin was glowing. Her straight eyebrows, large upturned round eyes squinting with her beaming smile, wide nose, high cheekbones, and full lips all came together to make a beautiful woman.
One that looked just like my girl.
The shock at the connection washed over me in a chill.How had I never realized this before?
