Chapter 6 – A Kind of Magic
Time seemed to stand still, as frozen and as raw as the new day, zooming in like a voyeuristic camera lens to focus solely on Logan as Marie saw the horror sweep across his face, watched as its darkness drained all light from his features...
...every last glimmer of hope from his eyes.
She stared after him in despair as he wrenched open the van door, roaring out Treena's name. Watched helplessly as he pushed passed the stunned cop who had been approaching the vehicle, knocking him roughly to the snow covered ground.
Treena? Marie anxiously scanned the parking lot, taking in the flashing lights, the sombre cops and stern looking men in suits. Had something happened to Treena? Was this commotion all because of her?
God! – she hugged herself with her arms – recalling that look on Logan's face. Distraught would have been too light a word to describe it. Crushed? Not even close. It was as if she had witnessed his very soul shattering into a million pieces.
She had surrendered her body – her heart – to him last night, when in truth she didn't know him at all, yet at that very moment she instinctively knew she had lost him. That his demons – whatever they were - had won.
And Treena had secured their victory.
But how on earth did he know it was her? What had happened to her? What terrible thing could possibly make Logan look as if his whole world had fallen apart?
She felt the tears prick at her eyes as the awful truth dawned on her.
She had been murdered.
What other explanation could there be?
The events that occurred next seemed to unfold before her eyes as if acted out in slow motion: Logan running like a man possessed into the centre of the chaos, cops immediately swooping in on him, manhandling him back from the scene of the crime.
As he struggled from the men's grasp she saw him bare his teeth into a snarl, heard him growl almost like a wild animal. His ferociousness was both frightening yet disturbingly compelling to watch and she prayed he wouldn't release his claws. Wouldn't hurt anyone.
When he cried out Treena's name again she finally shook out of her daze. Frantically unclipping her seatbelt she tore out of the van and hurried after him.
The cop Logan had knocked over and who had since risen, somewhat disgruntled, to his feet, snatched her by her jacket sleeve before she could get any closer. "Hey! I can't let you go over there."
Her mind raced for an excuse. "But that's my car!" she gestured determinedly.
He let her go. "Which one?"
"The black Cherokee."
"Licence plate?" he persisted.
Frowning, she told him.
At her correct confirmation he appeared mildly uncomfortable. "Could be a while before you get that back, I'm afraid. Forensics are still giving it the once over."
"Forensics? I don't understand," Marie blurted impatiently, desperate to get closer to Logan.
He took a deep breath, his face sympathetic. "A woman's body was found lying across the hood early this morning."
"Oh my god."
Marie felt the blood drain from her face leaving it feeling painfully tight and stretched. Treena's body? It had to be. She had been murdered. But again, she was bewildered as to how Logan could have possibly known it was her. Was there more to his mutation than just claws? Had he sensed something when they had entered the lot? Like some sort of premonition? And yet...yet it hadn't been until he had wound down the window that he had reacted so severely.
Nothing made sense and it made her head pound. Made her want to slip back into the camper, curl up into a tight defensive ball and allow none of this new nightmare to penetrate her. It reminded her too much of the accident – all the flashing lights and cops and commotion. Tragedy hung like a foul stench in the air. She could feel it now and she just wanted it all to go away. Just wanted to return to last night, when she had lain in Logan's arms and felt as close to heaven as she had ever been.
"You OK, miss?" the officer's voice was gentle, genuinely concerned.
Unfortunately, his concern did little to help as Treena's smiling face flashed into her subconscious - so open, so friendly, so alive - before distorting morbidly, becoming masked with death, eyes staring blankly...
Across the jeep? Her jeep? A dizzying bombardment of questions swirled around Marie's brain demanding answers. She had nothing to offer them except speculation.
"Miss?" the cop repeated, reaching for her arm.
Marie peered weakly across at him, her stomach lurching in warning. "I think I'm going to be sick," she confessed with a groan, before doubling over.
The rest of the morning proved somewhat of a blur and not unlike those first few hours that had followed the car accident that had killed David.
It was a peculiar feeling, an artificial sense of calm where you were numbly detached from all that was happening around you, yet were still able to function normally, act as if none of it related to you. Denial was the word that came to mind. It was a concept she was all too familiar with.
She wasn't sick after all, she just retched a few times that burnt her throat something rotten, but that didn't stop her feeling physically ill over what had happened. All she kept seeing was Treena's face. Her beautiful tarted up face. One minute alive, the next...
Logan was eventually calmed and treated with less hostility when it transpired that Treena had been a friend, although one cop, who had been winded from a stray swipe, was not looking in the best of moods. The crime had already been leaked to the press, several unsavoury looking journalists sniffing around where they were not wanted, and so his uncanny knowledge that it had been Treena was not treated suspiciously.
Marie had to sign some release form in regards to her vehicle but she barely read what it said, the words seeming to distort into one long intangible scrawl each time she tried to focus upon it. Whatever it entailed she realised that she wasn't getting the jeep back anytime soon, which didn't matter anyway since not only had it broken down but she was now intending to travel with Logan.
Or was she?
She felt her heart skip a beat.
What was going to happen now? How was this going to affect things?
They had left Laughlin City ten minutes ago after Logan had cornered one of the journalists for information (since the cops had no intention of divulging what had happened, other than the fact that it had been a murder, and it had been 29 year old local woman, Treena Parks). Marie had no idea what Logan had learnt from the journalist and he had remained silent for the duration of the journey so far, revealing nothing.
Dealing with his own shock, she guessed, although there was something else in his demeanour, something that she couldn't quite decipher, a look that frightened her. It was somehow feral, echoing of his earlier wild display, and...dangerous.
Please say something, Logan, she begged into the silence of her mind. Say anything. Break down. Open up to me. Tell me what's on your mind.
Of course, she knew exactly what was on his mind. Having been there herself barely a year ago. Right now he'd be feeling numb, disembodied from reality. Unable to take in the true enormity of what had happened.
Her heart ached for him.
Yet after last night, she couldn't help but feel selfish, didn't want to lose that connection they had forged. Even in the face of tragedy. If it was severed she feared it might be lost forever.
Please, Logan. Don't leave me.
The thought had barely entered her head when Logan suddenly veered off the road, making her jerk round in surprise. He parked awkwardly and impatiently into a small picnic area that had been cleared of the trees that dominated much of the stretch of freeway. Killing the engine, for a moment he just sat there, head bowed, hands gripping the steering wheel more tightly than was necessary.
"I'll be back," he finally blurted, freezing air rushing gleefully into the cab as he started to climb out of the camper. He wouldn't – or couldn't - meet her gaze.
"Where are you going?" Marie pressed urgently, her seatbelt digging into her as she lent towards him.
"Just...just gotta go." He met her stare then, his eyes glassy, wretched. It was enough to tell her why...why he needed to go.
"Keep the doors locked," he instructed firmly, despite his voice being rough and gravelly. "I...won't be long." He hesitated. "I just need..." he faltered, tried again. "Need..." He eventually gave up. "Trust me, baby?" He continued to watch her, desperate for her understanding, although it seemed a challenge now for him to keep eye contact.
Marie nodded cooperatively but reluctantly, acknowledging the wash of relief that swept his face. As he turned and stalked off into the forest she realised that there was little else she could do under the circumstances.
But twenty minutes later he still hadn't returned and becoming alarmed as well as cold now, she felt she had no choice but to ignore what he had asked. She climbed nervously out of the camper, locked the doors behind her and began to follow his footprints in the snow.
She choked back tears when she reached the end of her journey.
Logan was kneeling thigh-deep in the snow, body hunched forward, claws out and glinting chillingly in the first sun in several days. His hands were covered in dry blood that she guessed was his own and further spots of red stained the snow around him; so vivid against the white that it sent a shiver down her spine.
To his left side a small tree had been shredded to pieces.
His body quivered and heaved, his turmoil too consuming to sense her approach, his ragged sobs seeping intermittently out into the stark silence. She had never seen a man cry before and it was the most tragic thing she had ever witnessed, the most heartbreaking sound she had ever heard, and along with their sudden isolation, made her feel as if they were the only two people left in the whole world.
An icy breeze shivered through her hair as she stood, rooted to the spot, unable to do anything but watch her lover crumble beneath the weight of defeat. It was bitterly cold but she didn't notice, already frozen to the core by pain...and rising anger...
At that moment she hated life. Hated its cruelness. Hated what it was doing to this precious man, who didn't deserve to be on his knees, hurting this way. It was seeped in deception, allowing smiles but rewarding them with despair, offering respite only to snatch it away again for fear of you becoming too comfortable, too trusting.
Too happy?
Her breath began to quicken, her throat burning from the effort, and she was shaken by the overwhelming desire to kill Logan. To use her mutation to end his suffering there and then and follow him to that better place they both yearned, both needed so terribly.
It could be that easy.
That clean.
But just as quickly, she accepted that she didn't want to die. That she wanted to live. And she wanted Logan to live. She wanted to show him – prove to them both – that life could be better, if they only gave themselves a chance. That they could beat it at it's own game and step triumphant on the other side.
They could do that...together.
"Logan?"
He turned immediately, face glistening with tears, eyes red and bloodshot.
"Oh, Logan..." she sobbed, rushing through the snow to drop to her knees in front of him, searching his face fretfully as she brushed away the snowflakes from his beard.
"I know..." she soothed. "I know what it feels like." What it felt like to lose someone close, to wrestle with the pain, the anger and disbelief...
"She didn't deserve to die," he choked. "She didn't deserve to die like that..."
"No," Marie agreed in little more than a whisper. "She didn't."
His eyes flared. "Why her?" he demanded bitterly. "Why the fuck did it have to be her?"
"I...I don't know, Logan."
He turned away from her again, seemed to hunch further as if the weight bearing down upon him was too much to cope with any longer. "Christ, I can't...I can't go on like this. I can't...fight them anymore..." Tears dropped from his face, forging minute tunnels down through the yielding snow with almost a hiss, mingling with his blood...
It suddenly seemed so symbolic...
Blood, sweat and tears...
Logan's real life was beginning to mirror those cage fights that he reviled so much.
She reached out to touch him, run a tentative finger through the hair on his face. "Then let me help you," she started boldly. "Let's fight them...together."
He abruptly retracted his claws and the sound of metal sliding back into flesh made her stomach turn. As he slowly lifted his head to look at her his hazel eyes bored into hers, pleaded with her, and she quickly complied, accepting his trembling body into her small but willing embrace.
He gripped her so tightly, so desperately, that she found it difficult to breathe, yet his grief-stricken sobs were enough to provoke the same emotions from her own tortured soul. She began to cry too. Tears that seemed to scorch her eyes as they dropped into Logan's hair as he pressed his face submissively into her chest: tears for David, for Logan, for Treena...
...for herself and the dreams that had been cruelly snatched away from her.
"Shhhhh," she sniffed, as she lightly rubbed his back through the cold leather of his jacket. "Shhhhhh."
But he quickly pulled her from his grasp, holding her at arm's length, eyes searching her face tensely. "Don't leave me, darlin'" he begged. "Please don't leave me."
"I won't," she reassured.
"I...I need you, Marie. I need you so much..."
She drew him against her again, her hand moving from his back to run through his hair now.
"I need you too."
She glanced up for no particular reason, her tears heavy upon her eyelashes, and gasped when she saw a lone wolf about one hundred feet away, between the trees. The creature looked as if it had been padding through the snow but had stopped to observe them, its head turned towards their kneeling figures.
It was so unexpected, so beautiful. Nature at its most breathtaking.
As she met its gaze she was surprised to feel no fear, no panic. Instead she experienced an instant connection with the animal, an exchange of something completely primal and an acute understanding of what they shared...
Logan?
She couldn't fully comprehend what it meant but as the wolf broke their link and continued off through the trees she felt strangely exhilarated.
She watched it in awe as it grew smaller and smaller until it disappeared from view. She didn't know whether it had simply moved out of visual range or had faded away like a ghost. A part of her favoured the latter, inspired by the idea.
"I love you, Logan," she found herself whispering breathlessly into his ear, knowing that it was a crazy statement to make when they had only just met, but knowing that in her heart of hearts it was true. That she had never felt this way before. That it had to mean something.
And, she accepted, even if it was rash, even if it wasn't to last, it was sincere at that moment. When it needed to be heard. And that was what mattered most.
Her declaration seemed to make him cry harder, made him clutch her tighter. "Baby," he groaned. "God, Marie." She hadn't expected him to return the sentiment and so was not disappointed when he didn't. She was only glad that her words hadn't been received negatively.
His hands ran through her hair, swept her tear-stained face, couldn't seem to stop touching her. It felt like he was checking that she was...intact?...real? Whatever the motive she welcomed his exploration, relished it, moaning softly as she closed her eyes to allow his fingers to trace the outline of her lids and brows.
And then his hands moved to one side and his mouth took their place, his warm dry lips pressing demandingly against hers, seeking access between them so that his tongue could slip inside. Although his sobs were ebbing away she could still feel his tears mingling with her own as skin met skin. It somehow made the moment more intense, more poignant and she moaned again as she returned his kiss feverishly, giving him everything his shattered soul needed, offering all that there was of her heart to give.
I belong to this man, a little voice in her head sang. I was always meant to belong to him. And I was meant to heal him. Make him whole again.
When he suddenly stopped kissing her she blinked her eyes open in surprise, concerned that something was wrong.
"Logan?"
To her relief a glimmer of that hope had returned to his ravaged eyes. "At the bar...when ya' first...first looked at me? Did ya'...did ya' feel it too?"
"Yeah," she smiled. "I felt it too."
He took a deep breath. "I'd never let myself believe before..."
"In what?" she dared.
"In somethin'...somethin' this strong..."
"I was such a dreamer as a kid..." she started hesitantly. "Used to get teased all the time..." She wavered, emotions playing havoc with her voice as she added: "But I always knew it was all true...that magic..." She shrugged, becoming embarrassed. "I know this isn't the same. You're not a knight on a white charger and I'm not the princess locked in the tower...but...but this still kinda feels the same. Still feels...special."
She didn't know how he'd react, how he'd respond to her words but she prayed he wouldn't laugh at her. She knew that physically he probably wouldn't be able to, what with Treena and all, but his face could betray ridicule if he let it, if he wasn't what she believed he was.
But there was no mocking on his face. Instead he reached out to her, gently urged her into his chest like she had his earlier and she felt his chin rest on the top of her head as his arms wrapped around her protectively. "You're right, kid, I aint no knight on a white charger..." His voice was more composed now, gaining in strength.
Her heart pounded in her ears.
"An' neither am I ever likely to be."
She closed her eyes, just wanting to melt into the heat of his hard body.
"I aint no hero."
Oh, you are, Logan, she thought tenderly. More than you realise.
"But I can give ya..." he struggled. "I can give ya'...magic...if ya' want it."
She knew that he was a man of few words and that made these stilted offerings all the more precious.
"I can give ya' that much."
She smiled into the darkness of his embrace. "That's all I want," she assured, feeling a swell of renewed hope rush through her.
Those demons of his hadn't won after all.
And those that did still remain had one hell of a fight on their hands now they had her to contend with as well as Logan.
AUTHOR's NOTE – I know – flowery, flowery, flowery! Ha ha! So, sue me! ;)
Just for the record, I know absolutely zilch about crime scenes/cop protocols etc so I'm just guessing and trying to keep things simple so that I can't get moaned at.
I do, however, know what it's like to lose someone close, so that is accurate and from the heart.
I didn't know whether the magic bit at the end was a bit over the top but after much deliberating I decided to keep it in, because I'm a dreamy sort of gal myself and...well...it's my story – hee hee! I've just tried to make Logan as uncomfortable as hell talking about it! 'grin'
:D
And that's all for now.
Feedback is always appreciated.
And yeah – that is a hint!
:P