I quickly motioned to Myers that he needed to tend to Nash, whose attacker was on the ground, but Nash’s side still made the air smell like pennies.
I looked around to see the other three mutts cornering Carlisle like he was a squirrel. I slipped up behind Tucker, and he moved aside for me. Their skin seemed to hum as I limped past them.
“When are you going to be done with all this?” I asked him.
His blue eyes jumped from me to the three large men behind me and back to me. I knew the stare, I’d used it enough in the last three months to know when I was intimidating the hell out of something.
“When you are dead, the Pride is mine.” Carlisle had that snarl thing down.
“Honey, with these tricks, the Pride will never be yours.”
“What do we do with him?” Tyler asked. “I’m thinking breakfast.”
“You’d be hungry an hour later,” I said.
Tucker chuckled beside me, and I could feel the chuckle more than hear him. It danced around my neck and made me smile too.
I was just about to say something else just to feel the brush of soft puppy roll against me when Carlisle launched himself toward me.
It happened to fast, so fast that no Prima or panther could have stopped it.
The silver of the blade flashed in the streetlight as it jumped toward me. Strong hands grabbed my shoulders and pulled me back, but the knife still hit a mark.
Shadow’s thin frame jumped between me and the knife. I felt it pierce his shoulder like it had sliced into me.
Tucker swung me out of the way and to the ground and Tyler jumped on Carlisle like he was a piece of rawhide.
Shadow landed on the ground at my feet. I dropped beside him and looked over at Carlisle.
Tyler had knocked him unconscious but still had a death grip on the wrist of the hand that held a silver knife. Even in the low light, I could never miss the edge of green.
“Crap. Poison.”
“What?”
“Poison,” I repeated as I turned Shadow over on his back and into my lap.
He clutched at his shoulder.
I pulled at the cloth, ripping through the plaid shirt to see the wound. The green ooze was still there and I wiped at it with the sleeve of my shirt. Maybe it hadn’t gone in. Maybe it hadn’t gotten into his blood.
“What is this stuff?” Tucker asked at my back.
“If he shifts, he can’t shift back.”
That’s when the seizures started. The poison had made it into the blood.
“No no no no no no no,” I started to chant, like it would be the spell that I needed to keep him in human form. Wasn’t that all I needed? The will and the words.
I surrounded him with my power and pulled his chin to look at me.
“Just stay with us, Shadow. Just stay human.”
Nash and Myers joined us in the circle. The Warthogs were sufficiently beaten down enough that this was our collective focus. Helping him was more important than reveling in our victory over the Hogs.
By this time, Tyler had ironically enough hog-tied Carlisle, and he too joined the circle.
I felt them, felt all of them, especially Shadow as his dark eyes fell on me.
Another seizure racked his body and all of us put a hand on him, some holding him still and others just providing comfort.
I felt him slip away. A whisker sprouted from his upper lip. His lower lip quivered and he spasmed again. I wrapped my arms around him.
“Prima Violet,” he whispered.
And then Shadow slipped into his dog form forever. He whimpered in my arms and nuzzled against my cheek. I sat back up and looked down at the black German shepard in my lap. The wound was slick across his shoulder, embedding his fur with blood.
Tucker wrapped his arm around my shoulder as I held Shadow carefully. “We need to go,” he said to me. “We are not safe here.”
“Please, Prima Violet,” Nash pleaded.
“Don’t call me that,” I growled.
Carefully, Tucker took the injured canine from my arms as I stood up. My head spun a little and my stomach wandered around my body before settling in my feet.
“What about Carlisle?” Tyler asked.
“Leave him somewhere he can’t reach for his element.”
“Done,” Tyler said. No questions. No hesitation.
“Meet us at the apartment,” Tucker said.
“No,” I said as I shook my head. “We need a doctor. I’m not good enough to patch up that much blood.”
“We can’t go to the hospital,” Tucker said. “We’ve got Shadow, and I’m not splitting up.”
The rush of panic that wasn’t mine washed over me, but I pushed it away with a wave of calm. “I know where were can go. I just need a phone. And my shoes? Where are my shoes?”
Myers brought me the patent pumps. He slipped his arm around my waist. “I can carry you,” he whispered.
“Nonsense. It’s just a flesh wound.”
He chuckled. “Nice one.”
I put my arm under his and over his broad shoulder. He walked slowly as I hobbled along. When we got to my car, I pulled my key from my back pocket.
“How did that stay in there?” he asked as I dropped it into his palm.
“Very tight jeans.”
There was a glimmer in his eye as he unlocked the car door for me and then ran around the front to get into the driver’s seat.
I watched as he drove, checking the rearview mirror with a quickly healing black eye to make sure that the boys’ truck was behind us.
“I told you that I was bad news,” I muttered.
“Are you kidding? That was more action than I’ve ever gotten on a Sunday night.”
“You did some good work back there.”
I couldn’t tell if Myers was blushing, but the small smile he gave certainly said so. “I had a good teacher.”
DEVIN ANSWERED THE door dressed in a crisp button-down and pleated pants.
“Did I interrupt you?” I asked, biting my lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Or had the blood already been drawn.
“No, just having a— Is that blood?”
He reached toward me and pulled me into his foyer. I stumbled forward and the men behind me stayed on the dark sidewalk outside.
“I need help, Devin.”
Where Devin was used to me getting myself in the trouble, I had the distinct feeling that he knew this was the real kind of trouble this time.
He finally eyed the leg wound. “Violet?”
“I’ve been keeping things from you, and I know that I really need to explain everything, but right now, I’ve got a man outside with a pretty bad looking stomach wound that I need you to patch up.”
A deep furrow formed between his eyes. It was the first time I’d made Devin that concerned. He was usually my calm friend, my refuge from the strange. And a constant reminder of why I was always the one bleeding. Because if I weren’t, it could be him.
“Whatever you need, Violet.”
I waved the men into the house. Nash looked like a ghost as Myers carried him into the living room and made the smart choice to put him on the leather loveseat with the black blanket and not the white couch.
Tucker carried a still Shadow into the living room and gently placed him on the fireplace where Devin had a cheery fire going on the cool night.
“Devin, you remember Tucker, Shadow, Myers, and Nash.”
Devin closed the door and looked at the crew. “Even more scrumptious,” he whispered into my ear as he started for the kitchen.
Ignoring the fire that ripped up my own leg, I went to kneel by the couch and prepped the patient. I carefully tucked a pillow under his silky golden hair and brushed a smudge of dirt off his cheek. While touching him, I could feel the effect of my hot fingers on his cheek, as if I’d brushed my own.
“Devin’s the best doctor that I know.”
“Just stay close,” he whispered.
“Why?”
“Just promis
e.”
I squeezed his forearm. “I’ll stay here, Nash.”
The young man nodded and then squeezed his eyes shut as the pain flared again. With my hand on his forearm, I could feel where he’d been stabbed, not an inch away from where I too had a scar, and I could feel the weight of responsibility press down and around me.
“Think of this way. You’ve got the best story for a scar that I’ve ever heard. Hunting down wild Warthogs.”
Nash smiled but tried not to laugh and aggravate the wound.
Devin came back and I squeezed Nash’s arm once more and moved away.
Devin put the first aid kit on the coffee table and reached for the wound in Nash’s side.
“Wear gloves.” I warned. “Wear two pairs actually.”
Devin paused and looked up at me. “Just remember that I trust you.”
I nodded and watched Devin get to work.
I leaned over the arm of the couch and looked at Nash.
“You were brilliant,” I smiled down at him.
“You have saved us, Violet.” He reached up, and I took his hand again.
“I have done something, all right.”
I wound a tendril of energy across his forehead and he smiled, despite Devin digging and ripping at his side.
“What the hell did this?” Devin said as he sewed and cleaned and demanded gauze like a real doctor.
“A Warthog.” I couldn’t lie to Devin. Not any more. Not since I’d brought my problems into his living room.
Devin’s skilled hands paused over the now stitched wound.
“Please finish. I’ll make some coffee. You’re going to need it.”
“You can make coffee when you clean up that gash on your leg.”
THE STEAMING CUP of coffee in my hands made the world at least two shades better. The steam seemed to get into my head and soften external noises. The heat crept down my arms and soothed my jittery nerves and the caffeine, once it hit my blood stream, relaxed every neuron in my overactive brain.
Devin came in and scrubbed his hands clean. I watched silently. I trusted him to let me know when he was ready. And having a flair for the dramatics, he would make a show of making me wait.
He poured his coffee and put in four sugars and a then a splash of Baileys.
“Why didn’t I think of that?” I gave him a tired smile.
“How did a Warthog rip into your friend’s side?” Even his smooth English accent couldn’t mask the anger in his words.
I licked my lips and looked up at him. “I’m a shape-shifter, Devin. I have the power to change into a panther.”
Devin’s face paled and his hand began to shake. I carefully reached out and put his mug back on the counter. He’d already cleaned up enough messes tonight.
“It happened . . .”
He interrupted me. “When you lost all that weight.”
I nodded.
“When you met Chaz.”
“Technically, I met Chaz after, but details. These men are shape-shifters too.”
Devin nodded. “They’re hot.”
I smiled. “Yes, they are all good-looking now but . . .”
“No, they run hot like you do. The fever.”
He was taking this so well. I was half-expecting at any moment for him to tell me that he was some sort of wizard and that we were fated to be friends because he had a prophecy that was blah, blah, blah.
He ran his fingers through his hair and looked down at his shirt. There were a few spattered of red across his shirt. He practically ripped it off and threw it in the garbage, leaving him in an equally as elegant white T-shirt.
“Are they safe?”
“These boys? Devin, I would never put you in danger.”
“How was he attacked by a Warthog?”
“Other men, shape-shifters, killed a girl in Dallas. We went in to ask them to leave.”
“So that went well.”
“Not really, but I think they are gone.”
Devin, his hands shaking, reached out to grab a towel from the sink. He ran water over the corner and walked toward me.
He wiped the crusted blood off my forehead and frowned when he didn’t find the wound that had produced the blood.
My head in his hands, he looked down at me. “So this is all the weirdness? Magic and werewolves and . . .”
“Shape-shifters. Werewolves are cursed. What I can do is a type of magic.”
“Oh,” he said, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Of course.”
“Don’t forget fairies and vampires and elementals.”
“Oh my,” he finished off flawlessly.
I smiled up at him but tears filled my eyes. He was my innocent Devin. He was my human friend that I could be Violet with before I was Violet with a capital P. My chin began to quiver with regret and exhaustion. “I’m sorry that I have brought this too you. I’m sorry if I have . . .”
“No, my darling, no,” he said as he wrapped his arms around me. “Don’t be sorry. I will always be here for you, Vi. Even with the weirdness.”
“And I think we can agree that the weirdness was here before.”
Devin laughed and kissed me on the top of my head. I relaxed against his chest and exhaled. In his arms, the aches and pains seem to fade away, and I felt my leg growing stronger. It was a different kind of magic: the kind of magic that you get from your family.
The moment I relaxed, I could feel them again. Feel Nash on the couch. Feel Tucker as he paced back and forth. Even feel Shadow as he slept comfortably on the floor.
“Where is Stalker boy in all this?” Devin asked as he pulled away and went to lean on the counter.
I looked back down at the coffee still perfectly hot in my hands. “Chicago, living out his own sacred destiny.”
“So is he . . .”
I smiled. “No, he’s got his own thing.”
“But you two are still together?”
“Yeah, just never together.”
“So no steamy details to share with your pathetically single doctor friend?”
“God, I wish.”
Devin laughed and reached for his coffee.
Tucker appeared in the doorframe. His hands were jammed in his back pockets and worry was written across his face. “Can I beg an extra mug?”
I made myself busy with making the cup of coffee and the two men introduced themselves again.
“So what are you?” Devin asked.
In any other situation, I would have construed that as the worse possible pick up line on the planet.
“Black Lab,” Tucker answered as I handed him the cup.
Tucker looked down at the mug and then back up at me. “How’d you know?”
“Know what?”
“How I took my coffee?”
I shook my head. “I really don’t want to think about that right now.”
“Guess that breaks the old adage of like cats and dogs,” Devin snarked before taking a swig of coffee.
We laughed and it felt good, really good.
Then the doorbell rang.
“Guess I’ll get that,” Devin lifted his mug in salute. “Maybe take a look at the dog too.”
He left Tucker and I alone in the same room.
“We going to talk about what happened?”
“The Warthogs or the poison?” I offered. “I’m willing to talk about that.”
“Violet. I think you know what happened.”
“I think I have a very good idea, but I didn’t mean to.”
Tucker walked closer to me. “That’s what makes it sort of wonderful. You offered your power to save us, not to harm us, and not to make yourself any better or stronger.”
Tucker set his coffee down on the kitchen counter and reached for the neck of his T-shirt. I wanted to stop him because he was going to ruin the collar.
He pulled down the jersey to reveal the scar of his Mark. Where it had been dark before, now it was swollen but white.
Just like Sensei’s.
I reach
ed out and ran my fingers over it. It was hot as I rested my hand over it.
“No need for fancy spells,” Tucker said softly. “It was just a choice. And when we chose, he burned away or broke the ties or whatever, but he’s gone.”
“No Tucker . . .” I tried to pull my hand away, but he clamped his hand over mine against his chest.
“We are free, Violet.”
“No, you’re not,” I hissed as I tore my hand from his. “You’ve just traded in masters.”
“It was a hell of an upgrade,” Tyler said from the doorway.
He took a few steps into the kitchen and pulled up the bottom on his shirt. His mark was just on the inside of his hip and it was white against his tan skin.
“Nice locale.”
“I was young. Thought it’d be sexy.”
I snorted.
“Listen,” Tyler started. “Of all of us, I’m the one who consistently makes bad choices, the location of my Mark being one of them. You. You were the only good choice that I have ever made.”
“Tyler, but I . . .”
“You’ll make mistakes,” he said. “Walking into a den of Warthogs wasn’t the brightest, but we pulled it off. Together.”
“So you’re going to be the emotional speeches guy?”
“If I have to be, yeah.” Tyler smiled, and I felt it. I couldn’t describe what that was like. But this close, I felt his smile. Felt his assuredness and the small muscles around his mouth.
“One question though?”
“Shoot.”
Tyler moved in closer to me and dropped his voice. “Where’d you get that Myers kid?”
“Found me actually.”
Doubt flashed through him.
“Why?” I asked.
“He’s stronger than he looks.”
“Might be some of Violet wearing off on him.” Tucker offered.
Tyler ran his fingers through his hair. “Don’t know.”
“Spill it, Tyler,” I ordered.
“Nothing.”
I leaned against Devin’s refrigerator. “Maybe he’s finally getting the hang of it.”
Devin joined us again in the kitchen. “Nash and the dog are sleeping. And I need to get some sleep. I’ve got work tomorrow.”
“Thank you for everything, Devin,” I said as I took a few steps toward him.
He kissed me on my forehead. “Never a dull moment with you, Violet Jordan.”
Claws and Effect Page 15