Men of the Otherworld Read Online Free PDF

place. He saw the way his father looked at his grandson, and he knew this child wasn't
his
son, never would be. No more than he'd ever really been Edward's.
    Malcolm looked at the blanket at his feet, the one that had fallen from the child. It was the one covered in those damnable symbols. He kicked the blanket under the sofa. If his son had to live, then no one could know about this “infusion” of magic-maker blood. He'd been used by these women, but that would be his secret, his shame—and his alone.
    He grabbed a plain blanket from the bassinet, walked to the door, threw it at his father and strode past, leaving them behind as he walked on alone.

Savage

1967

Gift
    It was a late summer night. Hot and sticky, like most summer nights in Baton Rouge. My family had retreated to an RV campsite on the city's edge, as they did every summer weekend. It was past midnight and I was wandering the woods alone. Nothing unusual about that. I suppose there should be something unusual about a young child roaming the forest at night, but my parents had a vague idea of my whereabouts, and didn't care about the specifics. As long as I stayed out of trouble and didn't bother them, I could do as I liked.
    Saturday nights at the campground were always the same. My parents and their friends would gather at one of the sites, start a bonfire and drink and talk until morning. We kids were left to amuse ourselves. My older brothers were supposed to look after me but, as usual, they were with their friends, enjoying filched beer and cigarettes, and were quite happy to let me take off on my own, as long as I hightailed it back to the campsite when my parents finally whistled us in to bed.
    I wandered the wooded paths for a while, but didn't expect to see anything. Not what I wanted to see, at least. I'd only seen it once, and when I had, I'd run and not stopped until I was safewith my brothers. I'd cursed my cowardice a million times since then. All my nights of exploring, and when I finally found something worth seeing, I'd bolted like a baby. Each Saturday night after that, I screwed up my courage and ventured into the woods … and saw nothing more wondrous than fireflies.
    Time was running out. Just yesterday, my brothers had said there were only two weeks of summer left, which meant only two more weekends at the campground. Tonight, I decided I'd take the next step. I'd go to the string of cabins along the front road, see if he was in his, maybe catch him heading into the woods.
    As soon as I neared the edge of the woods, I saw him. A gray-haired man, sitting alone behind his cabin, smoking and staring out into the night. I watched from the forest, heart hammering. Finally, the man stubbed out his cigarette, got to his feet and turned to head into the cabin.
    In that moment, I made a decision—a decision only a child would even consider.
    I stepped from the forest. The man stopped, but didn't turn around.
    “Tired of hiding in the trees?” he said.
    His voice was sharp, with an accent I'd never heard in these parts. He turned then. His gaze traveled over me, eyes hooded to bored slits.
    “Well? What do you want, boy?”
    “I saw what you did.”
    His expression didn't change. “How nice for you.”
    I'd expected him to deny it, or at least play dumb, so when he didn't, I was left standing there, arguments jammed in my throat.
    “I—I saw you do it,” I said finally. “I saw what you turned into. I know what you are.”
    “So you said.” He yawned and rolled his shoulders. “How fastcan you run, boy? Hope it's not too fast, because, truth is, I'm not really in the mood—”
    “I want to do it.”
    He stopped stretching. “You want… ?”
    I stepped closer. “I want to do it myself. If you help me, I won't tell on you.”
    “Tell—?” He threw back his head and laughed, then looked down at me, lips still twitching in barely contained laughter. “And how do you think I'm supposed to help you? Wave my magic wand and poof,