Shiver(54)

Aidan glanced up from cutting the last of his steak. “Afraid of the little woman?”

“Yes.”

“You’re smarter than you look.”

“Fuck off.”

“Not the best way to make peace.” Aidan found he was enjoying himself. He scooped up the last sourdough biscuit and wiped his plate clean with it, soaking up all the leftover juices. “I don’t expect you to make peace with me. You have a right to feel what you do.”

“Yeah, but Gran and Eva have a point,” he grumbled.

Aidan paused with the biscuit halfway to his mouth. “Huh?”

Lynx looked around the kitchen huffing out a heavy sigh before he spoke again. “You were just a kid. What does a kid know? And you were a stupid kid.”

Aidan dropped the biscuit to his plate. What was Lynx saying? “Yeah, but you were no scholar, either, if I remember.”

“I could still whip your ass.”

“Might have a harder time of it now.”

Lynx sized him up and scoffed. “You’re no competition.”

“I might surprise you.” After getting his ass kicked most of his life, he now held a black belt in Jujitsu.

Lynx snorted, but the sound seemed less sarcastic than earlier. “Right, that’ll be the day.”





CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Aidan gave up on sleep, sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. Anticipation skipped in his blood, his breathing choppy, as he tried to hold the strings of his imagination together before he lost them. He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a notepad that rested next to the phone along with a pen. He couldn’t write fast enough. Words and images hit like punches, painful and powerful, left and right, until the small pad was crammed full. With haste, he shot out of bed, rummaged through the room until frustration had him pulling at his hair. He needed paper before his characters stopped talking. He had to catch every word battering around in his head before they went silent again.

Quietly, he snuck out of his room and headed to the main area of the lodge, searching tabletops, opening drawers of end tables, the cabinet that held a TV, until he found the small desk in the corner. Inside the top drawer was a notebook—and bless Fiona—pencils. Now he could draw.

The lodge spun away.

Chatanika was gone in an instant as he entered the world of The Spirit Totems where the souls who embodied the power of the totems fought against death and darkness. Darkness that was ever stealing over the Great Land allowing death the chance to roam like a disease.

In this world, he was the hero. Fighting evil, saving lives—instead of taking them—and he was loved and respected by friends and family. In this magical and dangerous place the wolf joined with the other formidable defenders who embodied the powers of the totem. The bear: the guardian with the power to heal, courageous, introspective with great strength, but also an angry disposition when riled. The eagle: a creature with a divine spirit, wise in the ways of the creator, and a risk-taker. The Orca: bright and playful, intelligent and sly. The beaver: industrious, instinctive, a watcher. And the wolf: perseverant, loyal, intuitive, able to balance the spirit of freedom with a strong sense of family.

Aidan found himself adding in a new character, grinning as the face of a fox took shape. A cunning, clever creature with shape-shifting abilities. He couldn’t help but give the character Fox’s inquisitive eyes. He drew until the early hours of the morning. Until he came to a plot point where he brought in the raven—a character he had always purposely avoided. He’d even been called to task by fans who knew that the raven was a formidable part of the totem. He’d never been able to bring himself to add her, knowing perfectly well why he hadn’t. Now he found himself unable to keep her out. This woman had raven hair down to her hips, almond-shaped eyes, a wide, seductive mouth. She was full of courage, cunning, wisdom, and magic.

Morning dawned dark and sleepy. Visiting with his friends again was a gift he didn’t think he’d get back since the troubled events of the summer. It clenched his heart, made him shake. He was afraid to get too excited. He’d truly thought he’d lost this, but as the words and images gushed out of him, he silently rejoiced.

“Whatcha doing?”

Aidan jumped, his pencil flying out of his hand, clattering to the floor. Fox stood behind him, just over his shoulder.

“Where the hell did you come from?” He hoped his heart would return to normal. The kid was sneaky.

“Home. Uncle Pike lets me have leftover meat for my dogs. I came up to fetch it.” Fox tilted his head to the side, looking at Aidan’s drawings. “Are these—”

“Nothing.” Aidan grabbed the pages and stacked them together. He didn’t let anyone see his work before it was finished.