by Cate Dean
“Penn is with him—all right.” Michelle caught her around the waist when she fought to push herself up. “Let me help you.”
Annie focused all the strength she had left on getting to Zach. After Michelle eased her to the ground, Annie gripped her arm. “Counter spell—it’s in the knife handle.”
“Where?”
Annie looked across the room. “Diana.”
“I’ll find it, get it to Marcus.”
Annie shed what was left of her jacket. Cool air brushed over her burned cheek, and tears stung her eyes. She laid one hand over Zach’s, held on to him.
Penn touched the wound on his side; a soft white light surrounded her hand, and he bolted awake. “Keep still, Zach. It’s over, and you’re safe. Both of you.”
He nodded, swallowing. “I want to go.” His hoarse whisper had Annie and Penn leaning over him. He clutched the amethyst, tears gathering in his eyes. God, no— “I can’t feel Mom anymore.”
FIFTEEN
Annie didn’t know how they got back to the hotel so fast. But the chaos they walked into had her pulling Zach to the far corner of the hotel room.
Marcus straddled Claire on the bed, doing chest compressions, while Michelle read the counter spell from a piece of parchment. Eric stood at the end of the bed, both hands on Claire’s ankles.
“Mom—”
“No, Zach.” Annie held him, fresh pain bursting up her arms as he struggled with her. The tears slipping down his face nearly broke her. Seeing Claire like that, still and unresponsive, finished the job. I can’t do this to him—not if this is— She couldn’t complete the thought, even in her mind. “Okay—but you have to stay out of—”
He pulled free and limped over to the bed, one hand pressed against his left side. He used every available surface to get himself there, his injured leg dragging behind him. Eric held out one hand, drew him to the bed.
Annie followed, feeling useless. She was empty, hollowed out after fighting with the elemental. So she stood, hurting, terrified, unable to help.
Penn took over the counter spell. She was the more powerful of the two, and as she spoke the words they sliced through the air. Annie could almost see them wrap around Claire.
Marcus must have sensed it. He stopped pounding on Claire and sat back. After endless seconds, Claire’s hand twitched.
“Mom—” Zach moved. Eric moved faster, caught his arms.
Penn finished the spell. Silence hummed around them, broken only by Zach’s harsh breath.
“Please,” Annie whispered. Tears clogged her throat. “Please . . .”
She let out a gasp, clutched Eric’s arm. Something dark and slimy slid out between Claire’s grey lips. As soon as it hit the light it writhed, twisting in on itself.
Marcus laid his hand on Claire’s throat. Gold light spread up and over her face. It touched the slime—and Claire started to convulse.
“Mom!” Eric held on to Zach. His sobs tore Annie apart. Moving in, she eased him out of Eric’s grip and wrapped both arms around him, careful of his wounds, ignoring the flare of pain from her burns.
More slime spilled out of Claire’s mouth. Every muscle in her body clenched, so hard Annie expected to hear bones break. The slime coiled around itself, flinching away from the gold light of Marcus’ healing.
Even with her power scraped dry, Annie felt the malevolence of the spell. Whoever attached it to that knife meant to kill, slow and ugly. Zach shook against her, and she held on tighter.
The spell fought to hang on to its victim, and Claire suffered for that battle.
Marcus kept her from tumbling off the bed, but he didn’t, couldn’t, interfere. This battle had to be won alone.
Slowly, meticulously, gold light surrounded the ugly spell, kept tightening the circle until the slime had no escape. Annie watched in fascinated horror as the slime turned inward. Like the mythological snake that ate itself, the slime disappeared into a gaping black maw until the last bit let out a final defiant twitch and winked out of sight.
“Mom.” Zach pulled free and worked his way along the bed until he sat next to Claire. “Please, Mom—wake up.” He brushed soaked hair off her forehead, the normally vibrant red brown dull and flat. “You have to wake up.” He took her limp hand, rubbing her fingers. “She’s ice cold, Marcus.”
Still kneeling on the bed, Marcus cradled her face, whispered ancient words that sent tingling heat across Annie’s wounds.
“Come back to us, Claire.” He brushed his lips over hers, looked into the wide, unblinking eyes. “I know you can hear me. Come on back to us, sweet.”
Nothing happened.
Annie lowered her head, choking back a sob, and felt Eric’s hands on her shoulders. She turned into his embrace, grief ripping at her. “Eric . . .”
“Mom?”
Zach’s whisper swung her around. He gripped Claire’s hand—and the same blue light that had flared across his tattoo surrounded both of them. A clean, sharp blue light. Even more shocking was Marcus’ gold weaving through it. He stood next to Zach, gripping his shoulder.
Her gaze moved to Zach’s tattoo. Light shimmered across it, the flaming sword and wings almost alive on his pale skin. And then her heart jerked in her chest as Claire blinked.
“Zach.” If everyone hadn’t been holding their breath, she never would have heard the hollowed out whisper.
“I’m here, Mom. Don’t try to move, okay? Just rest.” Annie heard the tears in his voice. Her own eyes stung, her throat tight. She wanted to run over and examine every inch of her friend, but this was Zach’s moment. Hers would come.
“All right.” Claire slowly closed her fingers over his hand. With a choking sound he lowered his head. “Hush. It’s over, sweetheart.”
“Welcome back, sweet.” Marcus brushed her cheek. “You had me worried for a bit. I thought I had lost you.”
“Almost did.” She closed her eyes. “Sweet heaven. Tired.” Her raw voice told everyone that.
“Get some sleep, Mom.” Zach watched her, waiting for what they all hoped to see; the soft, even breathing of healing sleep. Once she drifted off, he pushed to his feet, and to Annie’s surprise threw himself at Marcus. “Thank you.”
The poor sod looked stunned. Then he did something that endeared him to her forever. He wrapped his arms around Zach and just held him.
“I love her as well.”
“I know.” Sniffling, Zach looked at him. He was leaner, with narrower shoulders, but damn if he wasn’t almost eye level with the Jinn. “I’m working on getting past it.”
Marcus’ laughter burst through the room. “I believe we can find common ground, you and I.”
“Later,” Annie said. She moved to them, and raised her eyebrows as she glared at Marcus. “If you didn’t notice, you have two patients here, from a recent encounter with a fire elemental.”
“I did, and was waiting for permission.”
Annie snorted. “Like that’s ever stopped you before. No,” she backed out of reach. “Zach first. And you two.” She turned to Michelle and Penn, who stood near the head of the bed. “Thank you, for being my backup, for getting the spell to Marcus.”
“We’ll get out of your way,” Penn said. Her eyes were red—at least what Annie could see of them under the curtain of black and turquoise hair. She couldn’t see Michelle’s, since the woman was busy examining the floor. “You all need time to—”
“Not yet.” She moved forward, forcing herself not to flinch with every movement. She really wanted a cold bath and a date with her pillow. “Not until I invite you to a wedding.”
Both of them stared at her. She waited for them to try and back out, and already had her rebuttal.
“That invitation is from both of us,” Eric said. She heard him clumping across the floor. “And Annie won’t take no for an answer.”
“I don’t—”
“We’d be honored,” Michelle said, talking over Penn’s objection. “You just let us know when, and how we can help.”
>
“I’m honored—let me finish, Chelle.” Penn batted away her friend’s hand. “But I don’t do weddings.”
“And I’ll have her there,” Michelle said, gripping Penn’s wrist as she headed for the door. “With bells on.”
Annie smiled as their argument took them to the door and out the hall—along with her last distraction. Every injury decided to crash in on her at the same time.
“Whoa—” Eric dropped one of his crutches, caught her around the waist. “Time for a session with Marcus.”
“Zach—”
“Is already in bed. It’s your turn, blondie.” With a shaky breath he rested his forehead against hers. “You scared me this time. Really scared me.”
“Me, too.” Running her thumb over her ring finger, she leaned in until she could kiss him. “Marcus can play doctor, then I have a couple things to tell you.”
SIXTEEN
Claire woke, slowly, every inch feeling like it had been pummeled. A smile touched her lips when she saw Marcus in the chair next to her bed, sound asleep.
He looked exhausted, the angles of his face sharper, his skin pale against the limp black curls. She knew that was due to her. Despite the likely outcome, he never gave up on her. Swallowing, she closed her eyes against the sun streaming through the window. She just needed to rest, a minute or two longer.
The next time she opened her eyes it was dark outside.
Marcus bent over her, fingers brushing across her forehead, his touch soothing.
“Welcome back, sweet.”
“I was out a while.”
“You could say that.” Amusement lit the jade green eyes. “Three days.”
“Well.” She let it sink in. “I guess I needed to sleep.”
“How do you feel?”
Empty, fragile, worn thin. “I’ve been worse.”
He smiled. “Quite the understatement.”
“How is Zach?” She remembered the knife wounds inflicted by Diana, knew he had been burned by the elemental. It wasn’t only the physical injuries that worried her.
“Healing. He has questions for you. It seems he had an unusual experience.”
She closed her eyes. That was a conversation she planned to delay as long as possible.
“And Annie?”
“Tucked up with Eric.” He hesitated, and she looked at him. “The burns left by the elemental—I could heal the physical injury, but I fear they will need longer to recover from the psychic injuries.”
Nodding, she swallowed. “They can leave a nasty aftertaste.” She lowered her gaze to the blanket covering her. “Marcus . . . I died, didn’t I?”
Marcus took her hand, his grip so gentle she wanted to cry. “Yes, sweet.”
“I just—I felt myself slipping away.”
The anguish in his eyes scored her. “I could not keep you here. The spell—”
“Don’t you dare blame yourself. It’s your efforts that kept me here long enough for them to find the counter spell.” She softened her voice, reached for the fist clenched on the bed. “Knowing you were there, it helped me hang on as long as I did.”
“Do you remember anything?”
A smile tugged at her mouth. “Like Hell?”
“I assumed, since you acquired a soul, you would be headed in the opposite direction.”
“I’ve done too much damage in my former life to believe that.” Centuries of damage.
“And more than made up for it in this one.” He let go of her hand and cradled her face, his eyes intent. “Don’t you believe any different.”
When he kissed her she let go, felt herself slide into it. The tenderness surprised her, wrapped around her heart. He deepened the kiss, and she clutched the blanket, her head spinning. His hand slid down, around to the back of her neck, lifting her until she was pressed up against his chest.
“Claire.” He whispered against her lips, that sand rough voice sending a wave of heat through her. “I love you, sweet.” His lips trailed down the side of her throat. “Gods, I thought I lost you.” He wrapped her in his arms, lifted his head to look at her. She wanted to kiss away the pain she knew she put there. “I never felt so helpless.”
“I’ll try not to be stabbed by a knife with a death spell again, just for you.”
His laugh eased some of that pain, just as she intended. “Spending too much time with Annie, again.”
“Her friendship is good for me. It keeps me from taking pretty much everything too seriously.” He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t know me before I met her. I was—let’s just say not really social.”
“And you open a retail shop.”
“Stop judging, Jinn, and kiss me.”
He obliged, sinking with her to the bed. Claire was lightheaded, and every muscle shook with the effort, but she didn’t care. This was life, celebrated. And she needed to celebrate. Even with Marcus all but cocooning her, he was still incredibly gentle, as if she’d break with the least bit of weight on her.
She decided to remedy that, and slid both arms around his back, gathering herself for a shift.
“Mom?”
They both froze.
Marcus eased back, looked into her eyes. Biting her lip, she tried not to smile. Hell, she wanted to laugh at the shock and embarrassment battling with each other on his face.
She turned her head, let the smile cross her face. Zach stood in the doorway, his face flushed. Her heart skipped when she saw the crutches. “Hi, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”
“Can I come in?”
“Of course. Marcus and I were just making out.”
“Um—okay.” He swung in, surprisingly adept with the crutches. Marcus all but leapt off her, standing on the opposite side of the bed. Claire didn’t have the heart to tell him that his shirt was unbuttoned to the waist.
Once Zach got close she saw he was as embarrassed as Marcus. “Come here and give me a hug, son of mine.”
Setting the crutches aside, he lowered himself to the bed, and launched himself at her, hugging her so tightly she had trouble breathing.
“I was so scared,” he whispered. She felt his tears on her throat, and pulled him in closer. “I felt you—dying, and I couldn’t do anything . . .”
“Hush, sweetheart.” Claire rocked him, let him vent his fear. Just holding him made her feel stronger. “We’re all safe now.” Once he settled, she eased back, brushed hair off his face. “How are you feeling?”
He shrugged. “Okay.”
“And your leg?”
“It hurts, a little.” He picked at the blanket, and Claire knew he was avoiding. “Marcus said it would take a while, because of the source.”
“The elemental.” He bobbed his head. “Zach, how did you know I was dying?” His shoulders hunched. “Look at me, now. I want to know.”
He obeyed, after a long hesitation. One hand crept up to the amethyst at his throat. “I could—feel your heartbeat.”
She glanced over at Marcus, who looked just as surprised. It seemed her connection to the pendant wasn’t burned out by Zach when he fell.
“Why don’t you stay in here with me tonight, sweetheart? There are two beds, and I’d feel better, having you close by.” That he didn’t even make a token argument told her he was still shaky. “Marcus, can you get some sweats for him?”
He left without a word. Claire knew he wasn’t happy about it.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“No thanks necessary. Are you hungry?”
For the first time a smile crossed his face. “Duh.”
She laughed, hugging him again. Her boy, her son. She had no idea, when she accepted him into her life on that cold October night, that he would change everything. Now she couldn’t imagine her life without him.
“All right, smart mouth—grab the room service menu. I haven’t eaten since—Lord, I don’t remember. We are going to order a feast.”
She pushed herself to her feet, still weak, but determined to start moving around on her own. Zach’s whoop had he
r heart jumping in her throat.
“What—”
“They’ve got roast beef sandwiches, Mom. Can I order one?”
She clutched the footboard, waited for her heart to settle back in her chest. “They won’t be the caliber of Lily’s.”
“I know—but roast beef. I’ll hold in my disappointment.”
“Zach, my love, you can order whatever your stomach desires.”
*
“I’m so sorry, Eric.”
“Stop apologizing.” He tightened his grip on Annie, shifting his left leg until his ankle rested on the pillow again. “It was for a good cause. It was just a ring, blondie.”
“Just a gorgeous ring. Just my focus.” Annie knew she sounded like a spoiled little girl. She didn’t care. “Just the ring you gave me.”
“I’d rather have you. Alive and—mostly whole.” He brushed his fingers over the long white scars on her arm. Marcus healed them, fading the narrow burn on her cheek to almost nothing, but every touch still made fire lick under her skin. It would take time, he said. He didn’t have to feel like an open furnace. “Claire’s going to be fine, and so is Zach. It was a win for us.”
“This time. I know you’re thinking it, so don’t deny.” She sat up, slid out of bed and stepped to the window. Moonlight danced over the water in the harbour, the movement of the low waves soothing. “I thought being thousands of miles from home would mean leaving trouble behind. It’s me, Eric.” She leaned her scarred cheek against the window, the night cold glass a balm on skin that wouldn’t cool. “I’m the trouble.”
“Stop, Annie. Damn it—” She turned around, found him trying to stand. “Come here.”
“I don’t want to—”
“Shut up and get over here.” Surprised by his rude tone, she obeyed. “Sit.” He laid one hand on her cheek, and she sucked in her breath when he laid the other on her stomach. “I love you, both of you. The whole package. I accepted the trouble part of it the moment I knew I wanted to be a permanent part of your life. The ring that saved your life was a symbol. I’ll miss it, but I will always be grateful you had it to throw at the elemental.”