HAUNTED BY WHISPERS_Friday's Romantic Challenge

Denise Covey has given us another prompt for this challenge:
http://romanticfridaywriters.blogspot.com.au/p/challenges.html

My entry is from the sequel to END OF DAYS:
http://www.amazon.com/END-OF-DAYS-ebook/dp/B0082ZJD08

The sequel is entitled, DAWN OF WOES. My entry is entitled HAUNTED BY WHISPERS and is 425 words long ... just long enough to be out of the running. I do not like to compete with friends.  :-)

 

 

I was haunted by whispers. Did you know memories have voices? They do.

Mostly they whisper.  They whisper when the light of day dies, and all you have to go by is the light of your mind.

In the dark of my loneliness I could only hear the mocking whispers of what once was.

I stood glaring at St. Marrok’s gate glowing in fae light under the harvest moon. “Trish, I hate you for this.”

My skin almost jumped off my skeleton when a sad voice spoke behind me: “You don’t hate her, Becca. You miss her.”

I spun around. Maxine, shaved head, cloven hooves, and the saddest eyes this side of mine.  “If it isn’t the goblin princess.”

Maxine just accepted the barb like that was all she got in life, and I hated myself.

She sniffed back some tears making me feel even lower and said,

“Since you were seven, you and Trish have been a team on the streets. Now, she’s got Toomey Starks.  Alice has Victor somehow back from the dead.  And you’re alone … just like me.”

I arched an eyebrow.  “What about wolf girl?”

“Don’t call her that,” Maxine said.  “Higgins has been accepted back into the pack for saving St. Marrok's.”

Maxine looked forlorn at the moon.  “She’s out in the swamp right now, running with the pack happy ... without me.”

She blinked back tears.  “And I’m alone.  No one wants to be with a freak.”

I tapped her chin with a light touch of my knuckles.  “I’ve been called a 'no one' all my life, Princess.  Let’s be lonely together.”

A deep voice behind us said, “Or how about shelving the self-pity long enough to save the werewolf from the trap her pack has set for her.”

Damn! I turned around. Wolf Howl, the Lakota shaman. Victor had taken his first look at him and muttered, “Jeff Chandler” whoever the hell that was.

“A trap?” hushed Maxine.

Wolf Howl said, “Higgins left the pack to help all of us save the world.  The pack doesn’t forgive desertion.”

Maxine grabbed the shaman’s arm.  “We have to save her!”

Wolf Howl turned to me.  “You want in?”

I snorted, “What’s in it for me?”

He scowled, “Are you the only one you care about?”

“Well, I’m certainly number one on my list.”

Maxine flinched, but I winked at her. “But I make time  … for family.”

Maxine squealed, hugging me as Wolf Howl muttered, “White girls.”

I smiled at Maxine.  “Men. You can’t live with them, and they’re too many to kill.”

{Images courtesy of the talented Leonora Roy}