Part Four: End - a

Kendra was in her bedroom but she wasn’t wallowing in her bed succumbing to grief and depression. Instead, she was up and walking around. Her stomach was protruding in front of her and she was awkwardly waddling around.

“You’re waddling again.”

Her head snapped toward the source of the voice, a look of annoyance on her face that was only partly real.

“I’m eight months pregnant. I think I’m allowed to waddle,” she said and arched her back sharply. “He’s so heavy. How can a baby be this heavy?”

“Is that a trick question?”

She flashed him a look of pure annoyance.

“Don’t try to be funny. He’s your baby too you know,” Kendra said.

Conor looked at her, unable to stop the smile from overtaking his face. There was a moment or two where he legitimately tried to fight it but it was a losing battle.

He was going to be a father!

The idea of being there to watch his son grow up always filled him with joy. But it never lasted long. It would quickly sour and turn bitter in his mind when he inevitably realized that his son wouldn’t be able to see him or touch him. The only one that could was Kendra, thanks to her unique abilities. Those abilities had anchored his mind to hers, which was why she was the only that could see him. If she concentrated, she could even touch him which only benefited her. In his current state, he had no senses whatsoever. It was a bit like being blind.

“He’s kicking again,” she told him with a slight grimace of pain.

“He’s restless. Like his mom,” Conor replied, watching her pace back and forth with her fingers drumming ceaselessly against her thighs.

She whirled on him, clearly frustrated.

“It’s been eight, almost nine weeks since Drake’s last attack. Where is he Conor? What is he doing? Right now, we’re at our most vulnerable.” She looked down at the alpha mark on her palm. “I’m still recovering from everything Bendis did to me. Right now, I’m at my weakest. The Bane Pack is weak too. Arthur and Rose took Trevor and left because they didn’t feel safe here anymore. Our numbers just keep getting smaller and smaller.”

Her thoughts shifted to the three wolves that recently lost their lives.

“Zoe. Grady. Bruce. They’re gone too.” She still felt the pain from their deaths even now. “How are we supposed to fight back? We have the betas but Pope is still healing from the last encounter with the vampires. He got hurt pretty bad in the last attack from Drake. Merrick hasn’t been heard from since the night Bendis and the vampires attacked. I’m afraid….” She stopped talking and there was a flash of fear for her brother in her eyes. “Afraid that him and his pack are dead now.”

“Why is Pope not healing?” Conor asked. “He should’ve healed by now. That fight was weeks ago.”

“They aren’t sure. Drake’s venom is more potent and the mages are having trouble extracting it. It’s preventing his wounds from completely healing over,” Kendra explained. “They’re optimistic though. I’m going to go over there to check on him in a few hours.”

Conor didn’t like that notion and made that fact clearly known. His eyes narrowed and his face pulled down in a frown.

“You know he’s into you,” he grumbled. That had been something he noticed over the last few months and he hated it. Absolutely hated it. It served as a reminder that he couldn’t really be with Kendra. Not in the way that either of them wanted. He was always going to be half in and half out of her world.

A ghost.

“Stop that,” Kendra warned. She could tell exactly what thoughts were rolling around his head. It was a side effect of her subconscious effort to save him by trapping him inside her own mind. She could listen in on whatever thoughts she chose but she tried really hard not to do that. It was an invasion of his privacy so she tried very hard not to fall to that particular temptation.

“Stop what?” he asked, still grumbling.

“Stop thinking those thoughts.” She waddled over to him and laid her hand on his cheek. Then she pulled his face toward hers and kissed him on the mouth. “You’re here now. You’re here and that’s all that matters.”

He kissed her back, his passion rising up inside him despite the fact that he could not actually feel her lips against his own. That brought its own sadness again but he had to bury it. He didn’t want her thinking that sadness was her fault. There was already too much of that between them and there was a good chance it would make her start spiraling again. If the Bane Pack was going to survive, she needed a clear head.

She pulled away from him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Damn, he thought to himself. Something of his true emotions must have filtered down to her regardless of how careful he was trying to be to prevent that.

“Nothing,” he told her, but she didn’t look convinced. “I swear. Okay?”

She looked at him for a long time, as if judging his words, and then finally nodded.

“What do you think our next move should be?” Kendra asked but before Conor could answer, there was a knock on the door. Kendra turned toward it. “Come in.”

The door opened and an irate Deirdre came in dragging Casey behind her. The girl was clearly angry and was trying like hell to tug her arm out of Deirdre’s grasp but the older she-wolf was by far the stronger. It took a few seconds of stubborn, obstinate refusal to give up trying before Casey finally gave in and just stared at a wall with a sour, angry expression on her small face. A few seconds after Deidre came in, Ian followed. He looked worn.

Exhausted.

And he was a wolf.

What in the world has the girl been putting them through? Kendra thought to herself with a small smile. Truth be told, she genuinely liked Casey. The girl had fire in her and she refused to just sit by and let the world run her over. She truly admired that and it had instantly endeared her to the girl.

“What’s the matter Casey?” Kendra asked.

Conor stood to her right, his hands in his pockets and his face stern.

“What the hell did she do now?” he grumbled. He was not adjusting well to the fact that he was a father to such a…fiery…daughter and the fact that he was non-corporeal and no one but Kendra could see him did not help the situation. He wanted to be a real father to Casey, something she never had, but she didn’t even know he was there. It was a cruel twist of fate for him and Kendra had serious doubts that he would be able to come to terms with it.

“Shh,” Kendra whispered out of the side of her mouth. “She’s just expressing herself.”

“What was that?” Deirdre asked.

“Can you do something with her?” Ian asked. There was a sad, disappointed look on his face. One that said, quite clearly, that he was not happy that his granddaughter refused to have anything to do with him.

“Why don’t you two leave her with me,” Kendra said. She went over and guided Casey to a small upholstered bench at the foot of her bed. “Sit down please.”

Deirdre shot Casey a dirty look, turned on her heel, and left the room in a huff. Ian, however, gave his granddaughter a slightly forlorn, longing look and then left himself. Casey stubbornly refused to look at anyone, even Kendra.

“What’s the matter?” Kendra asked. “What is making you so unhappy here, Casey?”

Casey shot Kendra a dirty look, her eyes shrewd. Calculating too. She looked like someone trying to figure out the best way to use her current situation to her own benefit. Which probably amounted to what she could get away with stealing as she ran away from the mansion.

“Everyone here just wants you to be happy,” Kendra pressed on.

That seemed to make the girl angry, and Kendra could probably guess why. She was an orphan too and had bounced around numerous foster homes just like Casey must have. Some had been okay enough but others had been completely terrible. Downright evil. Those people had been so bad, she would’ve been better off living on the streets. She felt that Casey could identify with that part all too well.

She reached out and gently touched the girl’s shoulder. Immediately, Casey’s muscles tensed up. It was an instantaneous reaction and one born of reflex. That reaction told Kendra all she needed to know.

Someone had been abusing her.

“I’m not stupid,” Conor piped up. His face was twisted in a snarl of rage. “The way she reacted there. The way she flinched. It means someone’s been beating on my daughter doesn’t it?”

Kendra had to force herself not to react to him. It was a hard thing to do but she was getting better at it every day. Her pack was already in a bad way, she didn’t want them to worry about her even more if she looked like she was talking to people that were seemingly not there. It had a very negative side effect, however. The fact that she was the only that could see Conor often made her question her own sanity. What if he actually wasn’t real? What if he was only a figment of her own depressed, grief-ravaged mind? Those were questions she often asked herself when Conor first manifested but she grew more and more sure that he was actually himself as the months wore on. There was so much of…...him….there. She had been with him for a relatively short amount of time before he was killed. The phantom that now resided inside her mind exhibited parts of the man that she had never known before. Things that she couldn’t and wouldn’t fabricate. If he was a manifestation of her own will, maybe using the mysterious power she’d gotten from her mother, then she would never have been able to make him so...him. So...realistic. The parts of him that she had never seen before were starting to creep into the phantom Conor more and more. She saw more of his anger. More of his frustration. More of his...darker nature.

And then there was what he had told her about her mother, Helen, not only seeing him but summoning him to her. She had even confirmed that with her mom. She did say it was true.

It had to be him.

Right?

She forced those small, lingering doubts aside and turned her focus back to Casey.

“You know your father was much like you,” Kendra told the girl. She looked at the wall directly in front of them to a picture of her and Conor she had hung there. In it, the two were smiling and happy. There was a bit of ice cream on her nose from when Conor had shoved her face into her ice cream cone. She loved that picture because it had been a moment of pure, unfiltered happiness for her. When she looked at it, it reminded her of a slice of time when everything felt perfect. That joy. The love. The way she had lost herself in just being able to live without fear of pain, sadness, or misery.

“I don’t really care about him,” Casey said, miffed. She was still studiously trying not to look at Kendra. She had her arms crossed over her chest and her mouth turned down in a frown that marred her pretty features. “Besides, the jerk didn’t even know about me and before he could, he got himself killed.”

Conor growled low in his throat at that and was about to give an angry retort but Kendra held up a hand out of Casey’s view and he shut up. Then she reached out a hand and brushed a tear off Casey’s cheek. Kendra knew her pain. She had shared her pain for many years. In some ways, even now, she still feels it.

“He would have loved you, Casey,” Kendra whispered to the girl. She scooted closer to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. The girl tensed up again but Kendra wouldn’t let up and eventually, she relaxed a little. “If he was here, he would have fought for you. Trust me.”

She looked up at Kendra, crying freely now. There was a desperate loneliness in her eyes.

“Why didn’t anyone want me?” Her voice was a broken, pleading thing that crushed Kendra’s heart to little bits.

She knew exactly how the girl felt.

“I know it hurts but you are wanted here,” Kendra whispered. “You will always be wanted here. We’re your family, Casey. I promise you that.”

She turned so she could look her in the eyes.

“You don’t have to test us and you don’t have to push us away. We’re not going anywhere.” She smiled lovingly. “Especially not me.”

There was a look of hesitation in Casey’s eyes, like a part of her really didn’t want to hope that Kendra was telling the truth. But she clearly did want to believe it. Badly. She wanted to believe that she had a home where people cared about her so desperately she would be destroyed if it turned out to be a lie again.

Casey slumped, and Kendra saw something else in the girl. Exhaustion. She was clearly tired.

Tired of running.

Tired of being hurt.

Tired of her crushing loneliness.

“We won’t force you to be here,” Kendra told her. “But I think part of you doesn’t want to leave. Part of you wants to stay and be close to your family. Maybe even to your brother.”