Chapter 1

Jeff opened his eyes to pain.

And a dog.

The horrific pain held his attention for the first few minutes of his renewed consciousness. It seemed to come from everywhere, every limb, organ, nerve. There didn't used to be pain. He knew that, somewhere in his shocked mind. Pain was new. Horrible.

Temporary.

The dog, also, was new. Jeff did not so much focus on the dog, as half see it with the parts of his mind trying to flee the horror within him. It was brown, with floppy ears. Some sort of lab. It looked at him at an odd angle. As if ... as if...

Jeff was on the ground. That was it. He was on the ground, the dog standing on his left, head over his body as it panted in the cold morning air. Cold. Morning. More data points. Ground. Snow. Snow was falling on him, under him, around him...

A warm, wet tongue licked Jeff's face. He did not feel it, through the pain, but rather noticed the slobbering kiss. The dog was whining, tongue frantically coating his skin with warm water. It cooled quickly, threatening to freeze once the dog abandoned its effort.

He closed his eyes. Pain. So much pain. What had happened. Beyond the darkness the strange dog whined. Behind the creature, wind blew. Snow ... snow...

He had been snowmobiling.

Jeff had left the cleared trail. Tried to beat the blizzard back to his truck. A ... tree? Log? Something. Thrown. He was now in the middle of the woods, invisible to anyone who could help, life slowly soaking into the snow.

The dog licked his face again.

Jeff had never owned a dog. Cats, yes. Ever since he was a child. Never a dog. They had never seemed worth it. Dogs were too needy. Too ... demanding, of love and attention. Now, at the end of his life, he understood. Dogs only demanded a fraction of what they gave.

A shape appeared beyond the furry nose and slobbering tongue. Among the trees. Blurry. Red. It was slim, and red, had legs ... a head...

Jeff's friend and companion in his dying moments whirled, fluffy tail whacking him the face. He heard the beast growl, a low, dangerous sound. It was ... a comforting sound. The dog ... he thought he'd call him Rover ... was growling to protect him. That was nice of him. Protecting the injured stranger. It didn't matter what from. Jeff was going to die regardless. It was just nice to be loved.

"Good boy," he whispered. Maybe he whispered it. He thought it, at least. Thought his thanks to this noble animal, protecting him from dangers unknown...

The red thing moved away from the tree.

Tiredness was replacing pain. Tired. Jeff just wanted to sleep. Pain would vanish in sleep. He could dream. Dream...

The red thing came closer, it's form becoming clear in the swirling snow.

It was a girl.

Her skin was red, the red of the sun at sunset. That was all he could say for certain, his eyes blinking half aware at the upside-down figure slowly walking towards them. He thought her arms and legs were bare, a simple white dress, almost a toga, her only garment. That was foolish. So, too, the white eyes on that face, under long hair not blonde, but the purest yellow of the noonday sun. Rover was barking furiously now, pausing occasionally to growl.

"Good boy, Rover," he thought/said again. Rover turned his head, whining, giving his icy face a few licks. The red girl came a few steps closer in those moments, her pace never changing. Rover whirled again. He leapt forward a few feet, strong jaws snapping at the stranger.

She stopped.

Jeff felt his entire being focus on her. Her face ... it was beautiful. Inhuman. There was no sense of humanity in the creature. Rover was more human, the dog's emotions plain, honest. Rover lowered his head, growling. Yes. He loved this dog.

"Thank you, Rover..."

The red creature began to move its leg. Rover snapped again. The bare leg lowered. The girl's head tilted. For the first time, Jeff thought he saw something.

Confusion.

The red girl dropped down into a crouch. Her bare arms went to the ground, as if the snow wasn't even there. In fact...

Jeff's tired eyes blinked. He could see the snow undisturbed behind her. She had walked ... through the snow. Like a ghost.

His eyes closed. So tired.

Jeff heard the wind. Heard the panting of his only friend.

Heard, in the distance, the yelling of a female voice.

"CANTH!"

Menolly looked out through the dark mid-day storm.

Why.

Why, pray tell, had she let Canth out of the cabin on a night like this? Why, pray tell, had the dumb dog decided to go chasing after some poor bunny or whatever, instead of just doing his bathroom business and coming back inside? Why the hell was she out here, in a blizzard, calling for a pet too stupid to stay near home?

Because.

"Why does it happen? Because it happens. Roll the bones."

Great. Now she was going to have the Rush song in her head for the rest of the evening.

Her thoughts turned away from the here and now. Menolly had seen Rush. Once with her father, once without. Much of the family had gone, too. A family tradition she had only been old enough to experience once the way it should be. The second time ... had not been the same.

Would she go again?

Probably. If her brother Freddy was going.

Menolly's gaze again swept the forest. This was stupid. If the dumb dog wanted to come inside, he could make his way back to the cabin like any sane creature. She was cold, she wasn't wearing any boots. Menolly was going to turn around, head back, open a can of clam chowder and have some nice hot soup...

A bark.

Menolly began moving. Now that her attention was drawn, she saw shapes in the snow at the bottom of the hill. Dark shapes, not trees or rocks. Canth was standing next to something. Nearby, something large, blue, covered by snow.

A snowmobile.

"CANTH!"

It was overturned. She walked faster. Canth stood his ground, looking back at her. A person. A person, half covered with snow, lay at her friend's feet. Oh, god. She ran.

"You should have come and got me, Canth!" Menolly practically threw herself onto her knees beside the man, body protesting her treatment of it. The man was on his back, eyes closed. Face white. She tried to think.

First, was he alive? She put her ear to his mouth, eyes closed.Warm air, faintly, flowed against her skin. Alive. Good. Well, she thought, sitting up again, good in that he wasn't dead, bad in that she'd probably kill him in trying to save him. Menolly looked around. She couldn't just leave him. Even going back to the cabin and checking to see if her cell phone had a signal was out, because, one, she doubted it did, and two, it would take forever for help to get there. Especially if the road wasn't plowed. She had to get him inside, for all you weren't supposed to move anyone injured.

Her eyes went to his face. She didn't know him. That was good. Not that she would know anyone here, apart from that rather cute guy down at the store in town she had talked to for a bit. God, she was glad this wasn't him! She wished he was here, though. He probably would would have some idea what to do...

Canth barked again. He wasn't facing her, or the man. Her friend had his butt to her, tail up high, fur bristled. Menolly followed his gaze.

There was nothing there.

Canth lunged forward, jaws snapping. His head suddenly whipped around, eyes wide with concern. Menolly could only blink in confusion as he anxiously licked the dying man's face for a moment before again whirling to growl at some unknown danger.

A coldness unrelated to weather fell on the twenty year old, an inkling of what the unseen danger might be slowly coming to her. She stood.

"God. Fuck this. I'm sorry, whoever you are, but this is probably going to kill you."

Setting her feet, she bent down, grabbing the man under his armpits. With a groan, cursing the gods of chemo, she wrenched his body until it pointed towards home. She began to pull.

Menolly didn't know why the guy wasn't dead.

She had killed him. She knew that. Hastened his death, at least. The dark trail in the snow his body had left, let alone the huge stain in the snow where he had been, clearly showed he had bled quite a bit. The fact that said trail stopped not long after she began her dragging, about the time her panicked mind realized a bandage might be good, also seemed to indicate just about all the blood in him ... well, no longer was.

Yet, he was alive.

Menolly was not comforted.

Once in the cabin, after giving her exhausted body a rest, she stripped him, finding the gash in his back. It was not clotted. Trying not to think, she dried and warmed the well built man, washing and bandaging his wound. The rest of him seemed fine, if cold and white. He still breathed when she finished, a pulse still beating.

How?

Menolly put him in her bed, piling quilts on top. Standing in the doorway, Canth at her side, she stared at him. The man looked ... peaceful. Like any other man in her bed. Her eyes flicked upward, towards the heavens.

"He'd better not be from you, Mommy Lisa. He's not my type."

Which, strictly speaking, wasn't true. He was handsome, in a rugged twenty year old way. The guy was built, all muscle. True, it wasn't the type of guy she usually DATED, but that was more due to who hit on her and the circles she found herself in. If, on waking, the guy proved to not only be alive, but also intelligent and not a dick, Menolly could see herself having a serious thing for him.

Which could be bad news, if this wasn't a pairing made by the family ghost. Dark haired Adonises rarely associated with her.

Menolly frowned. She had to call Violet. She'd know what to do. Or Mommy Rachel. No. Violet first. Her wife Cynthia was the one to really bring into this.

"Come on, Canth."

Turning, Menolly walked through the living room. It was small, like most cabins. Room enough for a couch in front of the fireplace, a large comfy chair. About mid cabin it became the dining room, table and chairs for six set up. Her older brother often brought friends here for a guys weekend, doing what she had no idea. He had loaned it to her so she could get away during the semester break. Do some thinking. Maybe some writing not school related. Hell, maybe even think about ditching school altogether and just focus on writing. Her family would understand. She knew that. Hell, the fact they'd be saving on the last two years of college would probably be a big relief...