by Rebecca Main
I do so. Willing the soft beam of light to expand until the pain scoring Xander’s body assaults me. Xander, I call out in my mind, Xander, they plan to attack in waves. That’s why the premonitions were so scattered. They’ll attack in waves. Be ready. Always.
I love you.
I tighten down on the bond and it recedes, the light dimming once more. I am panting by the time I finish, a pain in my side still present. I share a worried glance with Melissa.
“Did you do it?”
I open and close my mouth, before finally admitting the truth, “I don’t know.”
+++
Casualties begin coming in every half hour or so with news of the fighting. Though most we see to are badly injured, those that bring them in are well enough to rejoin the fight. When Irina comes in with Ryatt under her arms he ghastly white, I almost faint away. His neck is torn open, eyes closed, and his chest is bleeding from multiple lacerations.
“Please,” Irina begs, handing him off as he is lifted onto the dining room table with magic.
“He’ll be all right,” I tell her, urging her back outside with me at her side. She watches anxiously as Melissa and two other witches begin to clean him and cover him in salves, while a different witch begins to chant at his head. “He’s in good hands.”
Her shoulders sag in relief. “Thank God, it’s Melissa. I didn’t know if she would come.”
“You know her?”
Irina gives me a sharp look, then begins to make her way to the forest. “Of course I know her. She’s like a sister to me.”
“I—”
“I don’t have time to answer your questions, Zoelle. Later. All right?” I nod helplessly as she darts off before I can get in another word. She’s out of sight after only a blink.
“Damn,” I mutter under my breath as I jog back inside.
“The Abernathys have taken in two more. The Monroes one and the Lestates have about half a dozen resting. They’ve been giving out their wolfsbane bombs to some of the wolves to use.”
“Good,” Gran says. “Let me get you some of those before you go, Keenan.” The burly man nods, eyes critically passing over Ryatt’s still form.
“He’ll be all right.”
“I know,” he responds curtly. I bristle in response.
“Good,” I snap back under my breath, sounding all of five years old again. He passes me an apologetic look, neck tilting ever so slightly in deference to me.
“I apologize. I’m not very…”
“Friendly?” I offer. He blushes. Two cute little patches of pink stain his already blood-spattered cheeks.
“Yes.”
“It’s all right,” I suck in a shaky breath. “I shouldn’t have snapped.”
“Here you are dear, go on now. You best not dawdle.” He gives us both a nod, though his gaze lingers on me.
“What is it?” I ask quickly. “Is he all right?”
He looks uneasily at Gran, then back to me. “He is leading aptly.”
“He is leading…?” I glower. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Zoelle, calm down. Leave the man alone and let him go where he is needed.” He flees without another glance, and I shoot Gran a heated glare.
“Something’s wrong,” I tell her.
“You’re still feeling the emotions of the pack slip through as well as Xander’s. It’s bound to happen with everyone on high alert.” But my head shakes at her logical explanation.
“No,” I tell her. “You don’t understand. I have this feeling in my gut. Something bad is happening. It’s like I still can’t breathe—”
“I said calm down, Zoelle. I don’t want you to have to force any kava tea down your throat just to get your head on straight.” My lips tighten into a hard line.
“I’m not a child.”
“Then stop acting like one.” She reprimands me.
“I know what I’m feeling is real,” I say just as sternly back. “Something isn’t right.”
Gran turns her back to me and walks over to Ryatt, ignoring my remarks and helping the others. I turn away from them and toward the kitchen counter, hiding my trembling lips and watering eyes. If they won’t believe me, I’ll just find out myself. I ease the bond open but am unprepared for the onslaught of pain that wracks my body. I fall to my knees with a gasp, engulfed in agony.
“Zoelle!” Gran’s sharp cry brings me back to reality, and I fight with all my willpower to close the bond back down to its original size. I can’t. I only manage it about halfway before my body and mind give up in exhaustion.
Arms shift around my middle to haul me to my feet, but the action leaves me gasping out a curse. I lean against the kitchen counter for support, my legs nearly giving out again as almost insurmountable pain runs across my body. My head feels laden, my legs and arms shot. One arm, I think hazily, must be broken, for it falls so limply at my side. I don't even think I can lift it if I tried. And then pressure pushes against my chest. I cough. Nearly choking as my body convulses with each hacking breath.
“Rita, get the white dittany and cataria bark. Quickly.” A girl no more than ten runs about the kitchen collecting the items, bringing them along quickly as Gran moves me to a chair. “What happened?”
I wipe the blood from my chin, hissing as I attempt to breathe. “I had to see what was wrong,” I tell her.
“Zoelle,” Gran admonishes, but her face is ashen. “Did you close the bond down sweetheart? All the way.” I give her a sad grin and shake my head, coughing some more and spewing red.
“Couldn’t,” I gasp, “too much pain.”
Gran brings a steaming cup of tea to my lips, the scolding water burning its way down my throat as I sputter and choke around it. “Drink it, child,” Gran insists. “It’ll heal what’s broken inside of you.
“I need essence of foxglove, now!” shouts Melissa. The table rattles from the other side of the room, as Ryatt’s body begins to shake.
“No!”
I turn wide eyes to Xander. Keenan is holding him upright, but Xander only has eyes for his brother.
“Put him on the table,” Gran orders.
“Xander!” I stumble upward and into Keenan’s path. I insert myself on Xander’s other side and help move him.
“You have to help him,” Xander says through gritted teeth, eyes rolling back as he is placed on the table. “My fault,” he utters, his voice strained.
“No, no,” I coo, my hands wiping away the blood that coats half his face. “He’s fine. Melissa, tell him he’s fine!” I yell across the room.
“He’s stable. All bleeding has been stopped. He just needs rest now.” Her voice sounds both exhausted and proud. I watch as Xander’s body goes limp with relief at her words, and I almost cry, but most certainly not in relief. I can feel the bond between us slowly expanding as our collective control begins to slip. The mounting pain begins to eclipse all rational thought, but before I lose myself to it, my fingers slip the jade talisman from around my neck to his.
He jolts. A silent cry of shock piercing his features as the talisman glows brightly on his chest. I feel my legs give out beneath me, but Keenan is at my side in an instant, righting me and keeping me close to Xander’s side. He lets out a hoarse holler as his superficial wounds begin to knit themselves together. My right arm tingles to life. The pain in my body is fading, but only just so.
“You gave him your necklace,” Gran says in astonishment, cutting away the ragged strips of clothes left on Xander’s body. Rita pushes her way to the table’s side and sets down several items. “If you can, sweetheart, apply that blue salve to his ribs.”
I nod numbly, forcing myself past the phantom feeling of his body healing, but still coursing with so much pain. Keenan helps, and a minute later Melissa and an older witch come to help.
“Why isn’t it working?” I ask, my eyes filling with tears as the pain continues. “I don’t understand, why?”
Gran stops her work but does not dare look at me. His
body isn’t responding anymore to the medicine. Cuts remain open. One particularly nasty gash on his side continues to spill what seems like a quarter of his blood out of him. Bruises bloom across his abdomen, and I suck in a shuddering breath.
“Gran!” She looks at me, her eyes filled with unshed tears.
“I don’t know what to do, sweetheart,” she says carefully, going back to applying a red paste to his right thigh. “When you put your necklace on him that helped, but….”
“Zoe you need to close the bond between you two completely,” Melissa interjects, her voice filled with sudden authority. “If Xander—”
“No—”
“If he dies, you could too,” she tells me without remorse. “You have to shut it down.”
My head sways from side to side as I stare down at Xander. “No,” I tell them stiffly. I knock away Keenan’s arms and careen toward the discarded white dittany tea Gran forced on me. A cry breaks from my throat as my body doubles over in pain. Both Keenan and Gran rush to my side at once, but I push them away and force myself past the pain. “I’m not giving up on him,” I tell them, shakily pouring more water into the cup. It slouches over the sides unsteadily.
When I reach his side once more, Keenan helps me half onto the table so I can place Xander’s head on my leg. “Come on, baby. You have to drink this.” I push the cup insistently at his lips, willing them to part, but the pain is surging through both of us now. My hands rattle as I press open his mouth and spill the tea inside. “Aleksandr, you have to drink this,” I command him angrily, my tears splashing onto his face and into his tea. “You have to stay alive. You have to stay with me!” I cry.
He coughs, coming to and half swallowing, half spitting up the tea I feed him. He gazes at me with one eye, the other swollen shut.
“Drink,” I command, biting viciously into my lip as I tilt the cup to his parted lips. “This will help. I promise.”
“It’s working!” Melissa exclaims. I shoot her a look of disbelief, and then my eyes dart to Gran.
“It’s your tears, Zoelle,” she cries in realization.
“What?” The question comes out shaky, and I’m too distracted by Xander’s frantic gulps to grasp her meaning. “I need more of the tea.” Gran takes the cup from my trembling grasp, filling it part way and then pressing it against my cheek. I jerk back in confusion, but she presses on. “What are you doing?” I ask, attempting to swat her away, or at least wipe away my tears.
“Don’t!” Gran warns, but she needn’t worry. Keenan snatches my rising wrist gently and places it back on Xander’s forehead. “It’s your tears, Zoelle. Don’t you understand? It’s your magic. You’re healing him.”
“I am?” I whisper roughly, feeling rather acutely the tear that falls haphazardly down my cheek before it is intercepted by the rim of the cup. Gran removes the cup and places it once more at Xander’s lips. He drinks from it greedily, the swelling and remaining bruises on his face retreating. “Oh God,” I weep in relief. Gran passes the cup back into my hands and I pass it from cheek to cheek, trying to collect as many tears as I can before Gran waves the teapot in front of me and refills it.
“The bruising is fading from his stomach, but you should switch to cataria bark. Rita, start to steep some of the bark with the next pot of boiling water. Angelica, I need you to weave the wound on his side closed. This wound was made with magic. It needs to be closed and sealed with magic.”
Everyone works quietly—besides my sniffling—and by a half an hour later, the worst of his wounds are treated.
“He needs rest now, with the way this night has been going I expect at least four wolves and two witches to come through that door bleeding all over my furniture. Let’s get him to a bed to rest. Zoelle, he’ll stay in your room. No funny business under my roof though, you hear?”
“No more,” Xander mumbles, eyes opening weakly.
“Shh,” I hush him, brushing his dark hair away from his face. “We’re all done for the night. It’s time for you to rest.”
“You don’t understand,” he wheezes. “It’s finished. We won.”
Xander waves an impatient hand at Keenan, and he obeys immediately, coming to his side and helping him sit upright. Xander grimaces but shows no other sign of lingering pain.
“We won?” I ask uncertainly, rising to stand. My body, though sore and abused, is most certainly healed.
“I killed Rollins,” he states, eyes going dark. “He went after Ryatt while my back was turned. I didn’t expect him to attack Ryatt. I thought he would go after me. He’s the kind of man who pulls that sort of move.”
“It’s really over?”
“Carrie led the retreat. We won’t be seeing them for the rest of the night. They’ll be too busy licking their wounds. Ah!” His breath leaves him in one fell swoop as he hops down from the table, wincing at the impact. Keenan and I come to his side to support him, but he waves the larger man aside in favor of leaning against me.
“I told you I would come back to you,” he says softly as we limp along to the front entryway and up the stairs.
“You also told me nothing would hurt me and not to worry.” I point out as we make our way slowly up the stairs. Very slowly. “I’d also like to add that thanks to my worry you’re alive.”
I drop my hold around his waist once we’ve reached my bed. He groans, flopping back with a sigh and throwing an arm over his black and purple spotted face. I cuddle up next to him, resting my head tentatively against his chest.
“I thought.” The words stick against the roof of my mouth. “I thought we were going to lose you. That I was going to lose you.” His arm retracts and sweeps around me, pulling me more snuggly against his side.
“Never.” He promises vehemently making me smile as I press a tender kiss to his lips.
“I love you,” I whisper my admission, my heart thumping wildly in my chest. His smile is the like the morning sun.
“I love you, too.”
The sentiments echo loudly through the soulmark, and I place my lips tenderly against his own. He responds in kind. His hand comes up to cradle my face as an underlying passion and yearning slips through. I moan gently.
Kissing turns to reverent touches and gentle caresses until the loving contact turns to something more.
I fear I’ll hurt him, but I cannot deny this man. His dark hair is a mess with dirt and grime. His beautiful body half covered in bandages and wounds. Xander’s grimaces of pain intermix with those of ecstasy. Our gentle rhythm coaxing from us the pleasure we seek and desperately need.
There is no regret when he holds me after. Only the knowledge that this is how life is meant to be led, without regrets.
EPILOGUE
9 months later
“Good afternoon, you’ve reached Baudelaire Patisserie and Café. How can I help you today?” My voice purrs pleasantly against the landline phone installed in the back of my café.
“Hmm, can you tell me what you’re wearing today?” asks a deep and husky voice. I roll my eyes.
“Seriously? Xander, customers could be calling this very minute, and I wouldn’t know because you’re calling me.” He feigns a sigh and his amusement funnels through the soulmark.
“You’re right,” he yields easily. “Besides, if I’m being honest I didn’t even have to ask what you're wearing. Blue gingham dress, your white sneaker slip-ons, and that matching set of black underwear you look so good in.”