Brothersong (Green Creek 4) - Page 252

Gordo said, “No. You can’t—Ox. I don’t know what the fuck you’re thinking of doing, but you better get that shit out of your head right now.”

Ox pulled away from Joe. “We all have a part to play. I’ve known that for a long time. I’m ready.”

Gordo’s eyes were wet. “What the hell are you—”

A roar filled the forest.

Ox stepped away from Joe.

We parted as he walked in front of us.

The dark cancer was spreading toward us as a beast moved down the dirt road toward the house at the end of the lane.

Ox took a deep breath and let it out slow. “We—”

Two figures emerged from behind the house.

Dominique and Bambi.

Rico rushed toward them. “Joshua?” he demanded.

“Safe,” she said. “In the bunker. And we’re here, where we’re supposed to be.”

Rico shook his head furiously. “Please. Please don’t do this. Leave. Go back. Run while you still can.”

Bambi said, “And leave you to get your ass kicked? Never in your life. We’re going to finish this, and then we’re going back to our son. Together.” She pulled Rico’s old guns from the holsters at her sides before glancing at Ox. “Thanks for the trippy mind fuck. But if that was your sorry attempt at saying goodbye, then you can go fuck yourself, Oxnard.”

“I love you so goddamn much,” Rico breathed.

Ox opened his mouth but then closed it before shaking his head. “You don’t—”

Gavin said, “He’s here.”

We turned.

Robert Livingstone stood on the road.

He’d removed the knife from his empty socket, though the wound still bled.

He was human, his bare skin pale. His face was twisted, his mouth turning down. He looked older, far older than he had when I’d seen him last, surrounded by witches. His skin sagged, and his remaining eye was sunken and burning. He had a tremor in his hands. His pack had been torn from him, and if they weren’t all dead yet, they soon would be. I hoped it felt like a thousand knives in his heart.

He said, “I lived here once. With the wolves.” He glanced at the blue house, shaking his head slowly. “I like to think I was happy, though that feels like a lie.” He frowned. “It’s strange, really. How easy it is to deceive oneself. I had power. I had control. I thought it was enough. I was wrong.”

“You killed my mother,” Gavin growled.

Livingstone nodded slowly. “I suppose I did, in the end. I took more than I gave, and… I can see that now. It may not have been by my hand, but it was because of my actions. But I did not act alone. The wolves. It always comes back to the wolves. The Bennetts.” His eye filled with red. “You made me this way. You took from me. My wife. My tether. My magic. My sons. All th

at I am is because of you. I never wanted it to come to this. All I wanted was what was mine to begin with. And you just couldn’t leave well enough alone.”

“Jesus Christ,” Bambi muttered. “Less talking, more killing.” She raised one of the guns and fired.

Livingstone jerked his head to the side. The bullet embedded itself into a tree behind him.

“You missed,” he said, and it sounded as if his heart was breaking. A tear trickled down his cheek.

And then he moved.

The façade of an old man melted away, skin tearing as the beast burst forward, fangs glistening, claws outstretched as black hair sprouted along his arms and legs.

Tags: T.J. Klune Green Creek Fantasy
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