Клэр Белл - The Named - The Complete Series

And then something heavy landed on her back, squashing her flat. Rage, astonishment, and fear combined in a murderous frenzy and she squirmed wildly, trying to get at her assailant with claws and teeth.

But somehow he managed to pin her down and grab her scruff, pulling her head so far back that all she could do was claw the air. She spat, screeched, and struggled until her throat was raw and she was panting with exhaustion.

“Enough, Ratha?” said a muffled voice above and behind her head.

Hearing Thakur sent her into another wild flurry, but she was too spent to sustain it.

“Can I let your scruff go, or will I get shredded?”

“You’ll get shredded,” she growled, but she was too tired to make the threat real. Thakur released his grip, but stayed on her back.

“Go to Thistle,” Ratha growled.

“Bira’s looking after her. Am I too heavy?”

“Go to Thistle!” she yowled, trying to throw him off. “She’s the one who deserves you. She’s the one who’s hurt.”

“Is she the only one, Ratha?”

His soft voice, his warm weight, the very strength of his presence seemed to enfold her. Yet somehow it could not penetrate the hard center of misery deep in her chest.

“You can heal,” she gasped. “You can help. All I can do is … hate.”

Instead of saying anything, he began licking the fur on her neck.

“Don’t, Thakur,” she said, starting to shake.

“Why not?”

“If you knew what I really am, you wouldn’t.”

She felt his tongue caress her nape again.“I know what you are.”

“The Dreambiter. That’s what I am,” she said bitterly. “I hate the Dreambiter. I want to kill the Dreambiter … yet I am the Dreambiter.”

“Ratha,” Thakur began.

“I think that finding the Red Tongue poisoned me. All I can do is hurt and burn. The Red Tongue is in me. It is getting stronger. Soon it will take the whole of me. It will be all hate and biting and burning.”

“Not all, Ratha.”

“Keep sitting on me, Thakur. I want to rip everything to pieces and I will, if you let me go.” She struggled again, but was almost thankful when he kept her down. “That’s good. Keep sitting on the Dreambiter. Maybe a quick bite to the throat will get rid of her for good.”

“That is only another way to escape.”

“Let me escape, then. Why do you want me? Why would you keep something so dangerous in your midst?”

“Ratha, we are all dangerous. To ourselves and each other. Not just because we have claws and teeth. The Un-Named have those as well. Not even because we have the Red Tongue.”

“Then … why?” Ratha whimpered.

“Because we can hurt and be hurt in new and deeper ways. We are all Dreambiters. And Dreambitten as well. ”

“If that is so, we should all be dead. Maybe the world was never meant for the Named. Or the Named for the world.”

“I don’t think so, Ratha. And you don’t either. You were the one who fought hardest of all to see us live.”

“Maybe I was wrong. If all we can do is birth cubs who have to struggle, like Thistle …”

“And you,” Thakur added softly.

“All right, maybe me,” she said grudgingly. “What difference does it make? It doesn’t help Thistle. I can’t do anything to help Thistle. That’s what drives me so wild. I can’t go near her. I’m afraid I’ll hurt her. Thakur, maybe I’m going to have to go away….”

“No. If you choose escape, no matter what way, she will always have the Dreambiter.”

“But if all I can do is hate the Dreambiter and that doesn’t work, what else is there?”

“I think you have to remember who the Dreambiter is,” said Thakur.

Feeling the bleakness in her belly, she said,“I know who it is.”

“No, you don’t.”

She craned her head around and stared at him, lost.

“You think that it’s all of you. It is only a part of you. And not even the strongest part.”

“No,” she cried, despairing. “You say that because you think I am like you. I’m not, Thakur. You are patient and wise and good and caring. I’m not.”

“Well, I’ll admit you aren’t very patient and you are still learning. But you do care.”

“The Dreambiter doesn’t care. The Dreambiter just … bites.”

“You are like me, Ratha. And because I know you are like me, I can say this. We all have a part that bites. Even me. You’ve seen it. You saw it just a while ago. But the other part, the part you call good and caring, is stronger.”

“In you, maybe,” Ratha muttered.

“No, in you. You have it. It won’t let the Dreambiter take over.”

Ratha was silent, taking long breaths.

“You have it,” Thakur said again. “Trust in it.”

Somehow his words made her tight knot of misery ease.“Maybe…,” she said in a low voice.

“Maybe what?”

“Maybe you can get off me now. I don’t feel so much like ripping up things.”

He eased himself off and let her groom her rumpled fur.“See? I trust your better self,” he said. “You should, too.”

“Just for that, I should give you a swipe across the nose,” Ratha said, shaking herself. “But you’re bigger than I am. Is that what you call my better part?”

“Somewhat. It’s also your common sense.”

Ratha paused.“I need to think. Hard.”

“Do you want me to leave you alone for a while?”

“No, I want you to stay. Don’t say anything. Just sit by me.”

And Thakur did.

“You will guide me?” Thistle stared at Ratha. The doubt in her eyes made Ratha want to squirm. Or change the decision she had made after thinking a long time. “You, not Thakur?”

“He will help,” Ratha said, “but this time it has to be me.”

Thistle looked away.

“Please, Thistle. I think I understand more now.”

“About you or me?”

“Both,” said Ratha.

“Then lie down around me,” Thistle answered, her voice trembling with a strange mixture of fear and anticipation.

Ratha could not watch her daughter withdraw into herself. Instead she fixed her gaze on Thakur. He pressed one of his forefeet against hers in silent support.

She waited, and at last it came — she heard the footsteps of the Dreambiter, echoing in Thistle’s voice. Again Ratha found herself bristling with anger against the unseen enemy, but she knew now that rage could not drive off the apparition.

She knew that for Thistle, she existed in two parts: the flesh-and-blood mother with a tawny coat and an uncertain temperament, and the fire-eyed punisher that lurked in the caverns to ambush the wandering self. She was both and neither.

As she wriggled close to her daughter, she could feel Thistle’s pounding heartbeat shaking her small frame. Thakur, on the other side, moved closer, too, helping to encase Thistle in a shield of warm fur and life. Yet the deadly thing — the deathly thing — was inside, beyond reach.

Tell Thistle to flee? To fight? Ratha suddenly didn’t know. Her decision, her plans — all somehow crumbled when faced with the small figure who trembled and whose foreleg was starting to draw up against her chest.

“Where are you, Thistle?”

“In the caves. Hearing the footsteps. Want to run.”

“No,” Ratha said. “Stay.”

“Wait for attack.” Thistle’s voice was leaden with the inevitability of pain.

Hearing it, Ratha rebelled. She would not let the drama end as it had already a hundred times before. But she had no plan. Just the feelings that twisted her belly and a stubbornness that refused to let her daughter suffer more.

“No,” Ratha said, and then added softly, “Call the Dreambiter.”

“Call … But then it comes faster. Pain… sooner …”