Chapter Text
The smell of death hung in the air, but it was the other, more malevolent odors--sulfur, ozone, and a primal, aggressive stench that reeked of unfilled hunger--that made Phayu's nostrils flare.
Only the villagers crowded near made him hold back the growl that rose in his chest. This wasn't the time to let his lion instincts have control. Frightening the villagers wouldn't do anyone any good.
At least they'd had the sense to send a message to the park before contacting the civil authorities. The scene was fresh, undiluted by the scents and tracks of the agents who would soon arrive.
The victim's body lay at the edge of his field, legs exposed to the overcast sky, while his head and torso rested in the shade of the trees that marked the park's boundary. Both sides of the border were within the sacred space protected by the ruined temple deeper within the park, which made this Phayu's problem. His and Saifah's.
Phayu studied the ground, but nothing appeared out of place. No animal tracks. No human prints save those that matched the man who'd found the body in the first place. The rest of the villagers had taken one look at the dead man and kept well away. Only now that Phayu was there did they dare to inch nearer.
The presence of a singha made them brave. They didn't know Phayu's true nature, but his forebears had protected this place for generations, born at need from the remains of the stone lion statues at the ancient temple's gate, and those who lived here knew they could count on the park's stewards in times of danger.
A boy of about seven edged forward and Phayu waved him back. "No one comes close."
Phayu had seen plenty of death. Natural, peaceful death held its own beauty. A loved, fulfilled human surrendering back into the wheel filled his chest with a kind of comfortable warmth. Accidental death, death from disease--those hit harder. Not just for the deceased, but for those left behind to mourn. Phayu did his best to support them from the shadows. If extra rice appeared on a bereaved villager's porch or the flowers blooming outside their windows suddenly flourished, spreading their comforting scent more intensely than they would by nature alone, well, no one needed to know the reason. It gave him satisfaction to provide that care to the people living alongside the temple under his protection.
This, though. This was none of those things.
He crouched beside the dead man. The victim had been face-down when he was found. Blood had soaked into the soil beneath his head turning it a crimson so deep it was almost black, and the dirt adhered to the wounds torn into his skin when the man who found him had rolled him over.
Singed skin coiled up the man's bare arms. Rent flesh wedged beneath his fingernails matched the gouges missing from his face. His mouth was frozen in a distorted scream, eyes bulging, staring at nothingness.
There were no other marks.
No beast had touched him and, while the unnatural stench still lingered within the boundary of the spirit realm, where only animals or creatures of spirit could sense them, Phayu didn't blame them. To be certain, he inhaled deeply, tasting the air in the physical world, but found no trace of disease that might have played a part in the death.
No, this was what he and Saifah had both suspected.
Something malevolent stalked this place, powerful enough to cross onto temple lands, despite the threat of its twin guardians.
The growl he'd suppressed earlier forced its way past his teeth.
He dug his nails into his palms. There was work to do.
Relaxing his hand, he swept the man's eyes closed, then rose and faced the villagers. "When the authorities arrive, bring them here. Let them investigate. Help them in any way you can, but don't count on them to keep you safe. Stay inside your homes at night. Travel in groups if you must, pairs at the least. If somebody lives alone, find someone for them to stay with."
The man who had found the body spoke up. His eyes were red and swollen. "When can we care for my brother's body?"
Phayu swallowed a wince. The love of a brother. Phayu knew it intimately. There had never been a time when he and Saifah hadn't been each other's shadows. From their birth, to their time as cubs, frolicking among the ruins, to the time they'd ventured away, wearing their human forms for longer than they'd ever dreamed possible--to learn what it meant to be human as deeply as what it meant to be lion--what it meant to be spirit.
He refused to consider how it would feel if the part of him that was Saifah was gone.
Phayu's expression softened as he turned to the dead man's brother. "Once the authorities have been here, they'll let you know. I'm sorry for your loss."
The words were too small, but they were all Phayu could give just now.
He had to get back to the park. Had to let Saifah know that they'd been right. The signs they'd been reading in their patrols--the animals' strange behavior, the patches of forest where unexplainable blight had taken hold, spreading outward to consume what it touched--were warnings. Warnings of what had now come to pass.
"My brother and I will do all we can to make sure this doesn't happen again," he said, addressing the villagers, "but we need you to help protect yourselves."
"You can count on us," said a gnarled woman at the edge of the crowd, leaning heavily on a walking stick. "I'm old enough to remember the last time something like this happened. Your uncles, they kept us safe. I know they paid a price." Her fingers curled around the carved clay pendant dangling from her neck. "We won't hinder you."
It was easiest to call the singha who had served this temple before him uncles, though really they were more like older brothers, born from the same stone, or fathers, since they'd raised Phayu and his twin before vanishing one day with no warning. No message beyond a scribbled note charging the twins to care for the temple and its people.
Phayu gave the woman a courteous nod, then headed for his parked motorbike. He glanced briefly at the sky. The clouds that had been gathering all day roiled overhead, steely-gray and angry, mirroring the turmoil within him.
He and Saifah hadn't yet been born the last time a threat like this had come, but they'd been raised on the story--and the reminder that it would happen again. There were deeper threats than the poachers and drug runners they encountered with distressing regularity.
All those decades ago, their uncles had been sorely tested. They'd triumphed in the end, but both of the singha statues had been damaged in the fight, weakening their uncles. When the lion statues brought forth Phayu and his brother, the broken stone had manifested in the twins. Phayu's progenitor stone had suffered lesser damage, but Saifah's was cracked nearly to its core. What should have been twin singha, masters of both the physical and the spirit world, had been changed. Phayu would never live up to the potential of those who'd come before, but he would always be stronger than Saifah, always able to touch the spirit world more easily.
Saifah made up for his deficit with a mind sharper than honed steel and a caring nature that supported Phayu whenever he struggled.
And he did struggle.
The hard limit at the boundary of his power taunted him. He could feel the strength waiting across that impassable barrier. Knew that if he could find a way to bridge the gap he could truly fulfil his purpose--the safety and security of the lands and people who were his charge. Every time he reached and failed, and he tried more often than he should, Saifah was there to talk him down from his anger and frustration.
While Phayu might regret his own failings, he would never wish for the Saifah that might have been. The Saifah that was was all he'd ever need.
A hand on Phayu's arm pulled his focus back to the now. The dead man's brother had followed him to his motorcycle.
"Khun Phayu," he said, glancing furtively toward the rest of the villagers, still gathered near the corpse, "I don't know if it's important..."
"Go on."
The man clenched his hands into fists and nodded. "Before this happened, my brother, he... He told me he'd been seeing things."
Phayu's eyes narrowed. "What kind of things?"
"Dark things. Shadows where they shouldn't have been. Sometimes eyes--" he lowered his voice and leaned in close to whisper, "--eyes of flame." He shuddered and straightened. "He wanted to talk to a priest, but I told him he was imagining things."
"When did it start?"
"A few days ago, no more." The man's fingers dug deeper into Phayu's arm. "This is my fault, isn't it? If I'd let him call a priest..."
Phayu winced and gently but deliberately detached the man's hand. The authorities would be arriving any moment now. He needed to be gone before they arrived.
"There's no way to know," he replied, "but it won't do him, or you, any good to place blame. Have you seen anything unusual yourself? Heard anyone else mention anything?"
The man pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head.
"All right. If you hear anything send word to me or my brother."
"You'll keep us safe, Khun?"
"We'll do everything we can."
He only hoped it was enough.
Phayu revved the motorbike to life and flipped down the visor on his helmet. He needed to get back to his brother.
#
Rain's knuckles stood out stark white where he clenched the wheel. Darkness had fallen over an hour ago, right about when he'd run out of paved road. The ominous clouds that had been amassing all afternoon had taken that same opportunity to unleash a deluge that lashed the car like it had somehow offended the weather gods.
It pelted so loudly that Rain had given up on trying to listen to his playlist. He needed all his focus to keep the car from slipping into one of the giant potholes that seemed to be multiplying, or off of the dirt road entirely. The headlights barely pierced the storm and, while the wipers ran so fast they made Rain dizzy, they barely cleared the windshield enough to get more than a wavy, watery view.
To make matters worse, his phone had run out of signal, leaving him without the guidance of his map.
This was supposed to be a fun, educational jaunt with his schoolmates during the winter holiday, before jumping back into the insanity of their second-year architecture program. And maybe for everybody else, it would be. Sky and Sig had come up with the plan and chivvied it into action. They'd caravanned up with Ple and Por to the private nature and wildlife park, which held the ruins of an old temple, earlier in the day to get the tents erected and a little bit of exploring in before nightfall, but Rain hadn't been able to get out of his work at the coffee shop that morning so he'd had to follow up after the rest.
Sky had promised to get their shared tent fully prepped--including Rain's pack of clothes, sleeping bag, and pillow, which he'd taken with him--so that when Rain arrived he'd be able to just park the car, crawl inside, and go to sleep, but at the snail's pace he was forced to drive, Rain wasn't sure he'd even get there by morning.
At least Rain didn't remember seeing any turns he'd have to take once he reached the dirt road, so he didn't think he could miss the park entrance, but without the phone online he had no way to tell how much farther he had to go.
Lightning forked overhead.
In the blinding flash, just ahead, thick, oily blackness uncoiled from the mud. It rose, up, up--nearly half-again the height of a man. What would have been its head spun toward the car. Crimson flame smoldered where eyes should have been, pinning Rain back against the seat.
He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
His foot hit the brake without his brain's input.
The lightning vanished, leaving Rain blinking and blinded.
The tires jammed.
Rain's heart lodged itself in his throat when the car slid sideways, completely out of his control. He didn't have time to react before the front passenger-side wheel slammed downward and the car stopped so hard he flew forward into the seat belt's tight restraint.
Rain clung to the steering wheel in the sudden stillness. Pain radiated through his chest. His heart might as well have been an oscillating fan with the way his pulse raced through him, frantic and throbbing.
Purple afterimages flashed across his vision, but that dark, shadowy hole in the middle... that hole filled him with the kind of dread he thought he'd left behind when he was five.
"You're seeing things, Ai'Rain," he said. "It's the middle of the night. You're tired. There's nothing out there but rain and more damn rain."
The sound of his own voice was better than the deafening din of the storm. Better to have himself for company than his imagination and whatever deep-seated nightmare had provided that... thing.
"You weren't driving fast. You can't be hurt that bad. You just need to get the car moving again. Sky and the rest are just ahead."
As he kept up his litany, Rain struggled to put actions to words. Finally letting his foot off the brake, he cautiously pressed down on the accelerator. The car rolled forward an inch or two, then came to a halt. He pushed harder. The rear tires spun in the mud. He could feel the front right tread trying to drag the car forward, but he must be in one hell of a pothole on the passenger side. It felt like he was trying to drive into a wall.
"Okay, Rain. Let's play 'What Would Sky Do.' Sky would... call for help!" He grabbed his phone from where it had landed in the passenger-side footwell and pushed the speed dial before remembering he still didn't have service.
Well, if nothing else, the phone did have a flashlight. Maybe if he could get a look at the problem he'd be able to figure something out. He was an architecture student, after all. Surely all that knowledge about load bearing had to be good for something!
Rain turned off the car, unbuckled, and twisted to grab his umbrella out of the back seat. His jacket was in the pack he'd given to Sky the night before. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time.
It was tempting to just stay there in the car. He was dry, and the whatever that his imagination had conjured was safely on the other side of the glass. But even though he was dry, he was also cold, and likely to get colder. He couldn't keep the heat running all night, not without burning through all the gas. And he wasn't a kid anymore. An imaginary boogeyman wasn't going to scare him into hiding like one.
Besides, not getting out of the car wasn't going to get him to a nice--hopefully dry--tent and the comfort of being surrounded by his friends. Rain wasn't good at solitude on a good day and this was most decidedly not a good day. His fingers were tingly with anxiety and he wanted nothing more than to not be alone.
Sky, Sig, Por, and Ple... He wasn't going to be okay until his friends were around him.
Shit.
Rain gathered the umbrella to his chest, quickly squeezed the necklace he always wore hidden beneath his clothes for good luck, blew out three quick breaths to get his blood flowing, and reached for the door handle.
"Sky," he said, "if I die, I'm going to kill you."
#
Phayu hadn't gotten away from the village fast enough. Before he had a chance to make his escape, the police rolled in, lights and sirens in full effect. He was a witness now, if not a suspect.
He'd spent the remainder of the afternoon and into the evening either being interviewed by a woman doing her best to gather evidence or being kept isolated from the rest of the villagers, presumably so he couldn't coordinate his testimony. He answered the inspector as fully as he could, knowing it wouldn't matter in the end. The killer was beyond their ability to comprehend, let alone catch, and it was still out there. Nearby. He was sure of it, deep in his bones.
Frustration and anxiety gnawed at him as the hours slid by. Hours in which he couldn't get back to Saifah. Hours in which they couldn't plan. Couldn't close the park. Every soul who set foot inside it was a potential victim.
He could have tried to leave, but the police were armed. Could have shifted to lion and run in the frozen moment of inaction as they tried to understand what they were seeing, but he was in the human world now and he had to play by human rules. His uncles had been clear--be human or be lion, but never be seen making the change.
So Phayu had sat on his hands and stewed until, finally, after daylight had fled and the threatening storm had finally proceeded to rage, he'd been released with orders not to leave the local area and to remain in contact.
Now every square inch of him, save his head, which was protected by his helmet, was drenched through. Denim clung to his thighs in a squelchy embrace. His leather gloves were sodden and, if the fire that lay banked at the core of every singha didn't flow through him, he was sure he wouldn't be able to feel his fingers. His clenched jaw ached as he navigated the dirt road. He'd long since let slip the shackles on the part of himself that sharpened his senses. No one could see his eyes. They'd never know they were glowing molten gold.
A sharp breeze slammed a wall of rain into his visor along with a wave of recent car exhaust and the pungent tang of human sweat, tinged with fear.
The hairs on the back of his neck bristled and his pulse accelerated. Why the hell was anyone on this road at this time of night?
He eased back the throttle, slowing to a crawl, nose flaring with each breath. Something about that scent...
Beneath the fear, a breath of jasmine mingled with the mist that rises off the forest floor at dawn.
Soft. Cool. Home.
It tugged at Phayu's core like the moon pulls the sea.
A beam of light shone through the storm, just ahead, briefly revealing the silhouette of a parked car, tilted at an awkward angle in the middle of the road. The light swung then stilled, pointing straight into the sky.
Phayu pulled to a stop and kicked down the stand, leaving his hazards blinking.
A boy rose from where he'd been crouched in front of the car, the cool white beam illuminating his face. Sodden hair clung to his face. Cold rain caught in his trembling lashes and rolled down the slim, shapely nose and chin. His drenched white T-shirt clung to his frame like a semi-transparent skin.
Frustration, fear, and that unique scent that filled Phayu's skull until other thoughts fought for space, rolled over him in waves. He drew in a breath, savoring the flavors on the back of his tongue then, reluctantly, he tamped down the essence of the lion within him. The smells receded, leaving him empty, but he couldn't approach while his eyes were golden.
The boy worried his lower lip with his teeth, then wagged a slim finger at the car. "You're going to do exactly what I told you, you stupid car. This is a perfectly sturdy ramp. You're going to roll right up and when I tell Sky and the others how I got myself out of this mess, they're going to realize just how damned smart I am. Got it?"
Phayu lifted one brow as he headed around the driver's side corner. Maybe the boy was doing just fine.
One glance at the flimsy collection of branches stretching from the bottom of the massive pothole to its lip dashed that hope. It wasn't a terrible plan--or it wouldn't have been, if he'd had some sturdy boards--but those branches would snap if the boy alone put weight on them. The car would turn the branches to toothpicks.
"Okay, I'm going to go start you up. Behave, understood?"
The boy jammed his hand into a pocket and frowned. Frantically dug at the other pocket. Pulled out the linings of both pockets.
He let out a pained groan and kicked the bumper, then yelped, grabbing his toes and hopping on his uninjured leg.
Phayu frowned. He was close enough to touch the boy, but he didn't seem to have noticed him at all. If he'd wanted to hurt him, he'd have been dead before he knew he was in danger.
The protective instinct of a singha flared. This wasn't going to do at all.
"Need some help, Nong?"