by Moira Byrne
Not wanting to waste my chance, I dashed away several steps before I turned to face him. My eyes widened in shock when I saw him wrapped up in thick, brown roots.
He twisted and struggled, growling all the while, but he couldn't get out. His blood smeared the roots, turning them red as they continually tangled around him.
I jerked my head to the right and saw Alex kneeling on the ground, his hand flat against the earth. A hard expression was on his face as he watched Edward writhe in his trap.
Edward's growl abruptly ended in a yowl, and I turned my attention back to him. He'd stopped squirming, held still in his cage of roots.
He yowled again, and I saw the roots jerk tighter around him. He breathed in fast pants, and I wondered if Alex was crushing him. I really didn't care.
Edward gave a jerk, and I saw his back. A chunk of his flesh was torn off, exposing muscle on his blood-covered back. Satisfaction ran through me. I had hurt him worse than he had hurt me.
The thought sobered me. I wasn't like Edward. I didn't hurt things for sport. I looked over at Alex and saw the dark look on his face as he watched the male cougar. Alex didn't hurt things for sport, either. I didn't want us to be like Edward.
I shifted back to human form and all my cuts and wounds immediately made themselves known, especially the claw wounds across my stomach. I sucked in a breath as the air hit them.
"Sophie," Alex said, his tone full of concern. "Why . . .? Oh God."
I looked down at myself and understood what brought that tone of fear to his voice. Blood seeped out of my wounds, covering my skin, and they hurt even worse; still, I knew they wouldn't kill me. Not if I cleaned them up and bandaged them soon. I looked at my arm in consideration—that might need stitches, too.
"Sophie, say something."
I blinked and looked at Alex again. I realized I was way too calm about this, and my cat was still in the front of my brain. I took a deep breath and pushed it back. I needed to be able to talk.
"Sorry," I said, my voice hoarse, "I was still in fight mode."
"You need help. Now."
"We have to deal with him." I tilted my head in Edward's direction.
Something dark crossed Alex's face, looking out of place. "I could. Easily."
Edward yowled, and I snapped my attention back to him. The roots coiled even tighter around him.
"No," I said firmly. Regret coursed through me, and I had to fight my cat to speak. My primal side disagreed with my decision. But I knew it was the right one. "We need to let him go."
"What?" Alex's confused expression met mine as I looked at him. "Unless I'm wrong, he was about to kill you."
"I know. But I'm not him." I stepped forward and put my hand on Alex's shoulder. "Please, Alex. Let him go."
I saw the conflict in his eyes as he looked at me. I could almost see the internal struggle going on in his mind. He may not be a shifter but he was a predator in his own right, and that predator didn't want to release the threat. He swallowed and broke our eye contact to look at Edward.
"I'm going against my better judgment, but I'll let you go. Know that I could have killed you. All plants answer to me. Do you understand? There is nowhere you can go that my plants can't get to you."
I watched as the roots reluctantly unfurled from around Edward, then bunched up and threw him several feet away from us. Edward landed on his feet and stood to snarl at us. The roots coiled like a striking snake.
His snarl abruptly stopped. He took a step back, then another. He gave a low growl, then turned and ran away in a limping run, leaving a messy trail of blood drops behind him.
The adrenaline left my body, and I slid down to sit on the ground.
"Sophie," Alex yelled, his voice full of terror as he raced to my side.
I started to shiver, and he slid his shirt off and over my head. "I've never fought like that before," I said. "Somehow, I knew I could, but never have."
"Let's get you cleaned up," Alex said as he slid his arms under my legs. I slipped in and out of consciousness as he carried me inside. Before I knew it, I was in my house and lying down on the couch.
"I'm getting blood on the furniture," I protested. It was very important that we didn't get blood on the furniture.
I hazily looked down at my wounded body and frowned. Blood no longer covered my skin and I was in a different shirt. When had that happened?
"I have a blanket under you," Alex said in a soothing voice. "I think you're in shock or something. I'm no doctor, but you were pretty out of it."
I blinked at him, then suddenly, Petunia Greenhaven was beside him.
"Alex," I whispered as I stared at the visage of his grandmother, "I think I'm hallucinating."
"What are you seeing?" he asked in a gentle tone.
"Your grandmother is standing next to you." My eyes flicked to him, then back to the apparition. She stood there, looking real and solid.
Concern lit her eyes, and I knew I had to be seeing things. Worry was not an expression that I would ever associate with Petunia Greenhaven.
"Sophie," he loudly whispered back to me, "she is standing next to me."
I looked back at Alex, then at Petunia. She frowned and something inside me relaxed. That was what I expected from her. She reached down and picked up something off the floor, her eyes never leaving mine.
I couldn't tear my eyes away from hers. Something held me in place. Her body shifted a little.
I heard the sound of metal scraping against something. Was she opening a jar? The sound stopped. The soothing scent of cinnamon and rosemary wafted through the air.
"Are you with me?" Petunia asked, her voice chilly. "I do not want to be clawed."
"Why would I claw you?" I asked cautiously. There was something about her demeanor that warned me I had better behave myself.
"I'm going to put this unguent on you. It will help stimulate your healing."
Suddenly visions of leeches came to mind. I didn't think unguent was a term that referred to the slimy blood-sucking creatures, but I tensed up and couldn't stop myself from blurting out, "Wait, what's an unguent?"
"I truly hate having to explain myself." She blinked at me slowly, then sighed. "It's a salve."
"Okay. Fine."
I managed to break eye contact with her to look at Alex. His expression was worried, but I didn't see any of the terror that had been on his face earlier.
"Alexander," Petunia said in her cold voice.
"Yes, Granny?" He glanced over at her but his eyes snapped back to me, as if he was afraid I'd disappear.
"I need to put this salve on her wounds."
"Right."
"I don't think your presence is required," Petunia continued when Alex didn't say anything else.
"Why would he need to go?" I asked in confusion.
I looked from Alex to Petunia and back again. I still was not processing everything clearly. When my gaze landed back on Alex, his eyes grew wide and a small grin crossed his face.
"Ah, I get it, Granny." He chuckled. "I'm going to run home and clean up. I have a bit of blood on me. I'll be back in a few."
He stood up and leaned over to brush his lips across my forehead before he turned and started walking to the door.
"Alex," I called out.
He paused and turned to look at me.
I hesitated, then blurted out, "Thank you."
He smiled, his eyes warm, and turned away. I watched him as he walked to the door and left.
"This will sting."
That was all the warning Petunia gave me before she smeared the salve on my arm. I hissed in a breath as it felt like she'd put a hot poker against me. She hadn't been kidding. With the brisk efficiency of a seasoned nurse, she got the salve on all my wounds.
I understood why she had Alex leave when she whipped my shirt off me and treated some minor scratches on my chest. I noticed my body really was clean. I hadn't imagined it earlier. I frowned. How did I get clean? I didn't remember.
"Mo
st of your wounds are minor," Petunia said, "but the one on your arm needs stitches. My salve will stimulate your body to heal quickly, but that needs more attention."
"I have a fully stocked first aid kit," I said, "but I'm not sure I can stitch myself."
"Where is it?"
"In the hall closet, but I can—" Before I could finish she was on her feet, then back seconds later. I watched in amazement as she sat down and began to efficiently stitch up my arm.
"Where did you learn to do that?" I asked. I'd been planning on giving her instructions, but she did a better job stitching me up than some doctors I knew.
A small smile curved the corners of her mouth, but she didn't answer. I sagged against my couch when she finished.
She left the jar of salve for me, along with instructions to use it every twelve hours. Exactly twelve hours. I'd been tempted to ask what would happen if I used it at twelve and a half hours, or eleven, but the look in her eye told me that would not be a good idea.
I slowly stood up after she left, then carefully made my way to my bedroom. Alex said he was coming back and I wanted to be dressed. I'd expected moving to be a chore but was surprised to find it not as painful as I imagined.
I patted one of the bandages—the salve must have been working. I stretched and touched one of the scratches on my stomach that hadn't been bandaged—it had already closed.
"What's in that stuff?" I whispered. There must be some sort of fae magic in it.
I shook my head and got into my clothes. Although I was healing quickly, they still hurt and twinged. I reached over to grab a belt and winced. No sudden movements in my future.
Once I was dressed, I picked up my phone off the charger. My heart twisted. I had three missed calls. All from Aly.
She left a voice message on the third call. I pushed play and her voice whispered through my phone. The fear I heard tore me apart; I wanted to call her immediately but forced myself to listen to the entire message.
'They hurt my friend, Soph. She's only human. She thinks I'm next.' Each word she uttered was worse than the last. My stomach was in knots by the time it ended and I immediately hit dial.
The phone rang once.
"Soph?" my sister's shaky voice answered.
"Aly, I'm coming to get you."
8
Alexander
As I stood in my shower with blood swirling down the drain, I could hardly believe that I had scared away a shifter. More so, I couldn't believe how badly I had wanted to hurt him.
I wasn't a fighter. I was very much a lover. I was happy, flirty Alex. However, something inside me had changed when I saw Sophie in danger, and I didn't even question my actions.
I had no idea who the guy was, why he was there, or what all he had done, yet I had nearly killed him. I found myself wondering if Sophie even knew how close I had actually come. Although I was frightened by how willing I was to squeeze the life out of him, I was still confused about why Sophie wanted to let him go.
I shook my head and forced myself to finish my shower quickly. My worry continued to grow with each passing second. Even though I knew my grandmother could both heal and protect her, I couldn't stand being away from Sophie when I knew she was hurt.
By the time I was out of the shower, I was so worked up that I couldn't stop myself from calling her to check in. I dialed her number, but it only rang and rang.
I left a voicemail, then tried again. Still no answer. My heart dropped like a rock into the pit of my stomach. I quickly called my grandmother.
"What now?" she answered with a sigh.
"How's Sophie doing?"
"How should I know? I left."
"You what?"
"I left."
"Damnit. I have to go."
"Do not curse at me, Alexander," my grandmother replied with a huff before hanging up.
My heart pounded like crazy as I quickly dressed, then raced out the door and jumped into my truck. I tore out of the orchard and down the road to Sophie's place, thankful the entire time that she lived so close.
My feet hit the ground after I slid out of my truck. I didn't even get my door closed before I heard Sophie's front door slam. Alarmed, I looked toward the sound.
I was slightly relieved to see it was only Sophie, but what was she doing outside? She should have been resting. Her back was to me and she was hunched over like she was in pain, yet she was still trying to leave.
Why?
I stood there frozen and watched as she fumbled with something in her hands. She dropped it, and I realized it was her keys. She started cursing profusely as she stared at the keys by her foot.
"I'll melt you down and turn you into a damned rake. I'll give it to Alex and he can use you with manure because that's all you're good for."
My eyes grew wide as I listened to her. She was normally the personification of calm and collected. Something was very wrong.
I started to move before I even realized it. I had to know why she was so frantic. My worry only grew when she didn't turn around as I approached.
I knew that her shifter senses meant she could hear and smell me from much farther away than a few paces behind her. Yet, even as I walked up her steps, she still didn't seem to notice me.
She hissed in pain as she started to bend over to pick up her keys and froze. As if she thought better of it, she straightened up and took a deep breath. That was when I noticed the weekend bag slung over her shoulder. Was she going somewhere?
Frowning, I reached down to pick up her keys for her. To my surprise, she whirled around and shot back a few steps, wild-eyed. A harsh gasp left her mouth, and I worried she may have hurt herself. At least, I did until I met her gaze. There was no green left in her eyes—her cat had taken over.
"Sophie?"
I searched the deep blue in her eyes for any remnant of the woman that I knew. Her ashen face had me worried that she was in great pain, or about to pass out.
"Sophie, did you hurt yourself again? Is my grandmother's salve not working?"
She shook her head sharply but didn't reply. My stomach sank.
"Sophie, please, talk to me."
Instead of answering me, she grabbed her keys from my hand and locked the front door. She immediately turned and headed down the steps, her unwounded arm brushing against me. If there was anything she didn't need to be doing right now, it was driving.
I gently placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her and a felt current of tension harden her body. I felt like I had placed my hand on the body of a wild beast, but I had no choice. I couldn't let her hurt herself.
"Where do you have to go right now? Why aren't you resting? Does this have to do with your fight earlier?"
I waited for a reply but she shrugged off my hand and started to walk away again.
"Sophie, what's going on? Who was that guy? Talk to me."
I heard her take a trembling breath, then she stopped moving long enough to say, "You're parked behind me."
"And I'm not moving until you talk to me."
With measured movements, she turned around to face me. As she did so, her bag slipped from her shoulder and dropped to the ground. A cloud of dirt puffed up at her feet. Her chaotic eyes rapidly shifted between blue and green. I could practically feel the anxiety pouring out of her.
"I need to go. Now."
"Let me help you."
I carefully grabbed both of her shoulders and pleaded with my eyes. I couldn't stand to see her like this. She was moving as if she still really hurt, and I couldn't figure out what was so important that she was pushing herself like this.
Her lips pressed together, but I saw the faint quiver in her bottom lip. The corners of her eyes shone ever so slightly. The longer I held her gaze, the more her normal green started to pull through.
"It's my sister," she finally whispered, her voice breaking. "I have to save her. I didn't want to leave her there in the first place, but she left me no choice. She left me no choice." She closed her eyes and swallowed thick
ly.
I moved one of my hands from her shoulder to tuck a finger underneath her chin and waited until her gaze met mine. "We'll go get her. Together. Now, tell me where she is."
My heart clenched as she pushed my hands away and shook her head.
"It's too dangerous and you've already done too much. I have to go, alone. I'm not even sure I can get her out."
She turned away and stopped after she took a step, staring at my truck. She didn't even seem to realize that she had left her bag on the ground.
I wasn't going to let her go out and get herself hurt even more. Whatever was going on was serious and clearly had her distracted. I couldn't let her drive right now, especially with her wounds. Plus, I knew from experience that Granny's balm would suddenly hit like a truck and make her feel very sleepy.
I picked up her bag and stepped next to her. She shot me a confused look as I wordlessly took her by the arm and led her to my truck, but she didn't fight me. I opened my passenger side door and tossed her bag into the back seat of the double cab.
"What're you—" Before she could finish her question, I wrapped my hands around her waist and carefully lifted her into my truck, mindful of her wounds, then shut the door. I could feel her eyes on me as I walked around to the driver's side.
I hopped inside and started the truck, then finally looked at her. "Tell me where I'm going."
The confusion hadn't left her face. "I wasn't kidding, Alex. She's not even in the same state."
"Tell me where I'm going," I repeated.
She stared at me for a moment before she finally relented. "Get on the highway and go north. You'll take Exit 223, but it'll be several hours before you get there."
"How far are we going?"
"It's about a six-hour drive." Her voice was flat, and I could hear the exhaustion start to creep in.
I immediately put the truck into reverse and pulled out of her driveway, then hit the road without another question. When I glanced over at her, I saw her hands were curled into fists and her knuckles were white. She was silent until we hit the highway.
"Why are you doing this? Do you have a death wish? Don't you understand?"