Luca retrieved his soda and tried to think of something else, anything else, except the idea his world would end in the next six months. Sooner if he caught something as his immune system became more compromised.
The simmering anger-fueled depression and overall helplessness was nothing new. He concentrated on the TV, hoping to distract himself from listing all the things he would never have.
Sunsets and sunrises, another Christmas, friends to laugh with, a family of his own.
A lover.
Police lights flashed on the screen, and a news reporter stood beside a van. Three large pines stood in the front yard. The house was white with dark shudders and baskets of flowers hung from the porch.
There would be an old porch swing built by hand. Like the birdhouses on the railing, the love of carpentry showed in the craftsmanship.
Luca turned up the TV.
“We’re standing outside the residence of a Mr. Lamar Oaks, a long-time resident of Cadburd County. Mr. Oaks’ body was discovered by his granddaughter earlier today. The condition of his remains suggests he’d been mauled by an animal.”
Sweat beaded on Luca’s upper lip.
“Animal control has been called…”
His heartbeat drummed the inside of his skull.
“Residents are being cautioned to bring in their pets and keep their children and themselves indoors and under no circumstances to go outside at night. They’re urging people to call police if they notice any strange animal activity.”
The screen switched to one of the in-studio broadcasters. “Do they have any idea what kind of animal it was?”
“No one has said anything so far, but I’ve heard mention of everything from a possible mountain lion to a bear and a pack of coyote-dog hybrids. They said they won’t know more until the coroner examines the body.”
Mr. Oaks was dead. Those things had to of killed him. And why? Because they couldn’t get to Luca? Or was the old man just in their path?
Luca blinked back the tears. He’d lived next to Mr. Oaks his whole life. He hadn’t been close with the man, but he’d brought Luca things like fresh honey from his beehives when Luca had been sick. Mr. Oaks swore raw honey could cure anything.
And now he was gone.
The bathroom door opened, and Nox stepped out. His hair was still damp and the towel around his waist wet enough to suggest he’d used it to dry off. He glanced at Luca, then flipped off the light in the bathroom.
“Did you eat?” His voice was gravel.
“I’m seriously not hungry.”
“You need to eat.”
“If I eat, I’ll just throw it back up.”
Nox frowned. “Is it the food?”
“It’s just hard to eat much of anything right now. And even if I could, I would have lost my appetite.”
Nox gave Luca a questioning look, and he motioned at the TV. The reporter gave another run down of what was known and corralled a cop with about a half a dozen other microphone-wielding crusaders. Together they pummeled the man with questions.
A tick jumped down the side of Nox’s jaw.
“It was them, wasn’t it? Those things?” Luca didn’t know why he asked. What else could it have been?
“Get some rest. We’ll leave in the morning.” Nox collected a pillow from the other side of the bed. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“Why? There’s more than enough room. And quit trying to change the subject. Tell me what you know. You said you would.”
Nox sat, giving Luca his back. There was a clump of scar tissue just below his left scapula. Luca had the strangest urge to touch it. Nox turned like he’d heard the thought.