Magic, New Mexico_A Touch of Death

by Immortal Angel

  She’d risen from her chair before she realized what she was doing and rushed toward him. He stared at her, openly watching her every move.

  “You need medical attention.”

  “I’m a shifter,” he growled. “I’ll heal.”

  Her lips drew into a thin line. “Yes, you’ll heal, badly and with more scars unless you care for your wounds properly. Surely your pack knew this? Even vampires receive treatment after we’re hurt.”

  He shrugged. “Trying to kill me, remember? Besides, they weren’t big on stuff like that.”

  The chairs squealed as the two older people rose behind them.

  The sheriff grabbed his hat off the counter. “Sounds like my cue to leave.” He started toward the door, but spoke over his shoulder. “I made you both a batch of my famous chili. Cooked it myself.”

  “Don’t worry, I helped,” Topper added with a wink.

  Theo glared back at her. “I can cook chili all by myself! Do it all the time,” he grumbled, shoving his hat onto his head.

  “Before you go,” Brendan began, seemingly unaware of their squabble. “I’m looking for something in Magic. Something I lost a long time ago.”

  He never mentioned needing to find anything. Her stomach tightened. I hope it doesn’t take long. I need to get home.

  Topper tapped her lip. “If you need some help, ask for a fairy named Sabrina at the post office. Her specialty is finding lost things.”

  He grunted a thank you.

  The sheriff put his hand on the doorknob. “You coming?”

  But Topper didn’t follow him, instead she walked right up to Brendan and grinned. “Boy, you are a handsome thing…a little rough around the edges, but I think you’ll suit my Alexa just fine.”

  She blushed. “Aunt Topper, we’re not—“

  “Maybe not yet,” the older woman grinned. “But soon. And, man, is it going to be an explosion when you two finally—“

  “Aunt Topper!”

  The older woman threw back her head and laughed. “All right, I’ll stop. And remember, if you need help again, don’t call me. This is something I know you two will be able to handle on your own.” Her expression grew more serious. “You need to handle on your own.”

  She headed for the door and the sheriff opened it, shaking his head.

  “Have a nice night!” she called over her shoulder, looking back at them and winking. And then, she pulled something out of the pocket of her dress and placed it on the top of her medical kit. “And I had a friend make this for his wounds. It’s a disinfectant, you know, without all that nasty burning.”

  “But how did you—?” Alexa began.

  “The Fates, of course.” Her smile widened. “Make sure you rub it on him real slowly. It’ll help with his sore muscles and repair broken bones too. It’s really some good stuff. Just be sure to cover every inch of him in it.” Then, she winked again and walked out the door.

  Alexa closed her dropped jaw and went to the door, turning the locks slowly to secure it after them. Putting off the moment she’d have to face him. As the last lock turned, she nibbled her lip and turned. “Have a seat on the couch. I’ll get my medical kit.”

  “Like I said, I don’t need it.”

  Impertinence she could deal with.

  Raising her chin, she gave her most arrogant look. “And how exactly are you going to be my champion when you’re a wounded mess? Sit down and stop being a pain in the ass.”

  His intense blue eyes locked on her, and for a minute she thought he might argue, but instead he went to the couch before the fire and gingerly lowered himself onto the edge.

  For a minute, she could scarcely breathe. He was so ridiculously gorgeous. Dark hair. A scruff of a beard, and muscles for miles.

  The fact that he was in nothing but a towel? It was downright criminal.

  He caught her gaze. “I don’t suppose they could have left me some clothes.”

  “I’m not sure my aunt is your size,” she joked, going to the table by the door and picking up the medical kit and special disinfectant.

  “I meant the sheriff,” he muttered, and she couldn’t help but grin.

  She hurried back to him, but slowed her pace as she got closer to the couch and sat down beside him. Opening the kit, she laid out the familiar items, then hesitantly reached for the white cream her aunt had left her in a silver tube without markings.

  How many times did I patch up Bryant after a bad fight? And how many times did Mom tell me never to leave home without my kit? A smile came and went in an instant.

  Don’t think of your family now.

  She squeezed the magical vanilla-scented cream onto her palm, then turned to face Brendan and froze. Forgetting to breathe. Her heart skipping a beat. Even closer, he was impossibly big. And impossibly handsome. But at least he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking down at her hands.

  “What is that?” He nodded at the cream.

  “Something that should help you heal faster. Okay?”

  He shrugged. As she concentrated on the extent of his injuries, her stomach turned. I can’t believe he survived this. After a minute, she realized she was holding her breath.

  Remembering to breathe, she inhaled sharply and studied his wounds. There were claw and teeth marks covering almost every inch of him. Some were badly healed, others looked infected, and still others were fresh. The wolves. But then there were other marks…unexplainable ones. They looked like careful incisions that had been left open to heal without help.

  As if a torturous surgeon had played with him. For years.

  She shivered. “How did you get that scar?” she asked, pointing at one.

  He glanced down, then jerked his head back up. His mouth pulled into a thin line, but no words came out.

  Fine. Don’t tell the woman that saved your life.

  She was angry as she reached her hand out and began to apply the cream over his chest, arms, and stomach. But even still, she was gentle. As irritating as she found his behavior, it was clear he’d already had a lifetime of pain. She had no intention of adding to it unnecessarily.

  Again, an image flashed in her mind of him as a teenage boy as she walked past in school. Her crowd of loud, confident girls chatted around her like a whirlwind. He would glance up from his locker, his back curved into a hunch, the tattered hood of his sweater pulled up. The look of loneliness and longing that filled his expression made the world around her fade away. The expression that he hid so poorly reflected exactly the way she felt on the inside.

  Had she been anyone else, had he not been an innocent human, she would have run from her group and wrapped her arms around him. Because in his eyes she saw the promise of something amazing—a kindred spirit. An end to her endless loneliness.

  She shook her head and glanced down. Her hand had stopped moving on his stomach, touching the hard planes. How long had she been lost in thought, touching him so intimately?

  His eyes were closed, a pained look on his face.

  Stop ogling him right now, look at how injured he is!

  Squirting more of the cream onto her hands, she knelt between the fireplace and the couch. She rubbed the wounds on his legs as gently and thoroughly as she could. When she pushed back his towel ever so slowly and began to rub the claw marks on his inner thighs, he groaned.

  She withdrew her hands. “Did I hurt you?”

  His eyes were still closed, his whole chest moved with his rapid breathing. “Yes. But—thank you.”

  She rose and went to the sink, washing the blood from her hands. When she came back, she pulled butterfly Band-Aids from her kit. I hope there’s enough.

  But then, there’s probably enough in this massive specialty kit to patch up an army.

  The white bandages were perfect for any creature that healed quickly. As a small, white strip, all she had to do was pull wounds closed and place the strip in place to hold the sides together. The vast majority of the time, within a few hours, the wound had closed with the help of the
bandages. After a few days, there would be no scar remaining at all.

  His eyes finally opened and a frown tugged at his lips. “What are those for?”

  “The worst of your wounds. If we use these, you’ll heal faster and without scars.”

  He huffed, a sound that was almost an angry laugh. “We wouldn’t want me to scar.”

  She glared at him as she gently pulled the skin of his wounds together and placed the Band-Aids on. “You don’t have to act like such an ass. I’m only trying to help.”

  When he didn’t answer, her anger went up a notch.

  “What happened to you? You used to be so nice in high school.”

  He stiffened beneath her touch, and she immediately regretted her words. It’d been a long few days. She was emotionally raw before she realized that her champion was someone she had such complicated feelings toward. But that was no excuse for her behavior.

  He spoke before she had a chance to apologize. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to act like an ass.” He rubbed his face and then ran his hand through the front of his hair. “It’s just been so long since...since someone was…gentle with me.”

  If she’d felt bad before, now she felt worse. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have said that. You’re just not saying much. Even that stuff about needing to find something in Magic, what’s that about?”

  His deep blue eyes flickered to her, his gaze intense.

  She looked away, uncertainty fluttering in her stomach as she placed the last Band-Aid on his legs. Then, she reached for wound dressings for the spots that still bled. For a shifter to still be bleeding after this long, he must have been in pretty bad shape before tonight.

  “You said you needed a champion.”

  She nodded, not wanting to talk about it, but knowing she had to tell him. “In less than a week, I’ll be challenged for my position as clan leader in Mist. I can either fight him or appoint a champion. A witch prophesized that I could only fight with you as my champion, so I came for you.”

  And because of my loss of magic, I’m too weak to do it on my own.

  It took him a long minute to answer. “You need me to fight a vampire for you?”

  Her cheeks heated. “He isn’t just a vampire. He’s a fire elementalist.” He’s dangerous. Something cold slid through her veins. Don’t say it. But she had to. “I know you agreed to be my champion to get out of a bad situation. If you don’t want to, now that you know more—”

  “No,” he said without hesitation. “I’m not backing out. But there’s something I need to do first.”

  She repeated his earlier words. “Yes, find something in Magic.”

  She secured the last dressing on his legs, then stood up and sat on the edge of the couch. Her gaze ran over his many, many wounds. Where to start? She reached for the butterfly Band-Aids, focused on his massive shoulder and forearm.

  “The Shadow Keepers are not shifters.”

  Alexa stiffened and waited, focusing on her task, giving him time to work out his words. Just like when we were young.

  “They’re aliens.”

  Aliens? Was he serious?

  “Shape-shifting aliens.”

  When she said nothing, he continued, sounding a bit more confident. “I know how crazy that sounds. All you magical beings seem to think vampires, witches, and werewolves make perfect sense. But believing in aliens? Just insane.”

  She smiled because he seemed so relieved that she was listening to him.

  “The problem isn’t that they’re aliens. The problem is that they’re bad aliens. Criminals hiding out on Earth. And their only ticket off this planet is successfully creating a human-alien hybrid, and then letting their superiors know…at least that’s what they’ve been banking on.”

  “Okay.” She hesitated. Do I believe him about the aliens? The answer came quickly. As ridiculous as the notion sounds, I do. Because she trusted him. She always had. “So what do they want with alienhybrids?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve heard mixed things. Their boss either plans to sell the hybrids or use them in some scheme of his. I guess their people have been having some issues with a declining population, and they haven’t successfully found another race to breed with, so this was the next best thing. Either way, he said that if they can’t get the job done, they can rot here.”

  Alexa turned this new information over in her mind. “Okay. And what does this have to do with what you need to find?”

  He took a deep breath. “They’ve successfully created a hybrid, so all they need to do is contact their superiors, and they’ve got a ticket off this planet.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing?”

  His expression tightened, his eyes going distant. “No. Because once they learn that humans can be altered, they’re going to expand their operations. Make a lot more hybrids to expand their progeny. And then, none of mankind will be safe.”

  She stared, letting his words sink in. So there was a group of criminal aliens who were experimenting on humans and if they could let their superiors know, all of mankind would be in danger? That was bad. Not end-of-the-world bad, or extinction-level event bad, but bad enough. “So you’re trying to stop this?”

  He nodded. “And the only way to do that is to find the communications device before they do. I’ve seen them use it in the lab. If I’m lucky, I can talk to the right aliens, and send these bastards home.”

  She let the breath she didn’t know she was holding out. This is unbelievable.

  But I guess no less unbelievable than the fact that I’m a vampire.

  “So what happens if we don’t stop them?”

  “More people will be turned into freaks.” Another pause. “Freaks like me.”

  She stared, and for the first time everything came together. Brendan isn’t a shifter. He’s some kind of alien experiment?

  “How are you…different from them? From werewolves?”

  His brows drew together. “The only thing I have in common with those…aliens is on a biological level. I can shift, but only into wolf form. The other shapes that they changed into weren’t of our world, so for whatever reason, I couldn’t mimic them. But beyond biology, I’m nothing like them.” He was breathing faster and faster, his muscles tensing. “If you saw all their ‘failed experiments’ you might understand why I don’t like to be associated with them.”

  How have they been able to do all of this without anyone knowing?

  Anger raced through her, followed by a horrible realization. “The Shadow Keepers’s home is on Draven Cerberus’s lands—in Mist. Is it possible he is aware of what is going on?”

  Brendan slowly shook his head. “I don’t know who that is or who they were involved with on the outside. They wouldn’t have trusted me with information like that.”

  “I can’t believe you were being tortured right under my nose!” She hit the steering wheel with her fist. “The Shadow Keepers were given permission to use lands, under the belief that they were werewolf shifters without a home of their own. They would have needed to talk to a man I know in length to do so. Did you ever see them with a vampire with silver hair and orange-and-red eyes?”

  He frowned. “Alexa, I was their first ‘successful’ experiment. They hunted me like an animal to test my skills. They pretended I was ‘one of the pack,’ but someone was always watching. It wasn’t until right before I left I even knew that they were experimenting on other humans. And that I found out by accident.” He got quiet. “Then I realized the whole underground of our base was a lab. Or better yet, a massive torture chamber or screaming humans or dead bodies.”

  Alexa couldn’t breathe. “My family rules over those lands.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “My family rules over four other powerful vampire houses, as well as our own, of course. Draven Cerberus answers to us. We should have known what was happening on those lands. Especially if it involved magic…or aliens…or shifters, for that matter.”

  He watched her carefully.
“None of that matters now, it’s all in the past. What matters is the future.”

  It matters to me. There’s no way Draven is going to get away with making alien hybrid shifters on my lands. His house will go down for this.

  She gritted her teeth. “Of course. We’ll deal with your aliens, and then we’ll deal with my traitor.”

  She slowly began to tend to his wounds again, but in her mind she’d come to a realization, for the first time she was glad Draven planned to challenge her to a fight to the death. Because she suspected his involvement with the aliens, and for such a crime, his life was forfeit.

  Her thoughts swirled. If she had her powers, things would be so simple. If only— for so long she said she wanted her magic back, but deep down she didn’t. She was terrified that her curse would take the life of another person she loved. Even when her brother was killed, her head longed to discover his murderer and bring him or her to justice, but her heart never truly wanted that.

  Her heart…it never wanted to experience death in any form again.

  Yet, now, thinking of Draven, a man who thought to usurp her throne before she even had time to grieve her brother. A man who had “failed” to notice the alien shifters and their activities on his lands…maybe, just maybe, he deserved to die.

  Yet, could I ever truly take a life again?

  She looked down at her hands.

  Inside, her magic stayed silent, an answer that was louder than any she could scream.

  No.

  Chapter Four

  Brendan didn’t know which part of his situation was more unbelievable. The fact that Alexa Darkmore, the only girl he’d ever loved, was touching him, or that she was a vampire. When I knew her in high school, I thought creatures like her were still make-believe. What was more, he had told her about the existence of aliens, and she wasn’t laughing in his face.

  Whatever the reason, he was overwhelmed with gratitude.

  Her small, soft hands continued to brush his skin as she placed the bandages, moving to the wounds on his chest. Yes, he hurt, but pain was something he was used to. The feel of her hands on his body? Not so much.