Scapulimancist (Seven Forbidden Arts Book 7)

by Charmaine Pauls

  Thinus’s shouting had to have alarmed someone who’d crossed the beach to relieve himself in the dunes, because the man came running, his fly still open.

  “Go get help,” Bella shouted, which made the man turn around and run back to where he came from.

  Nelis stood on the spot, ducking the few stray wasps that circled him. The insects would keep him in check.

  Not concerned with Nelis any longer, Sara turned to Bella. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine,” Bella answered, even if she was shaking.

  “I’m so sorry, Bella. This is all my fault.”

  “Don’t you dare apologize. You will not take responsibility for these dickheads’s behavior.”

  Thinus was struggling in the water. She could hear his gulps and cries of pain.

  “Can Thinus swim?” she asked Nelis.

  The man they’d sent for help came running with a small group of people, including Wayne and Christian.

  “What’s going on?” Wayne said, his eyes wild.

  Bella clutched her throat, staring wide-eyed at Sara, and then she burst out laughing.

  “They attacked us,” Sara said.

  Christian gave Wayne a worried look. “I think Bella’s in shock.”

  “No,” Bella said through her tears, “it’s not that. I’ve never seen anything funnier.”

  “What’s so funny?” Wayne’s eyes shot fire in the direction of the water where Thinus still splashed around.

  “The wasps.” Bella wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “They stung the hell out of him.”

  Nelis started backing away, but Wayne turned on him with a look of fury that was frightening.

  “Don’t fucking move.” With an authoritative voice void of emotion, he said, “Sara, Bella, are you hurt?”

  “I’ll be fine,” Bella said.

  Sara shook her head.

  There was murder in Wayne’s eyes as he started making his way to the water, his steps long and measured.

  Sara grabbed his hand and pulled him back. “No. I think he’s had punishment enough.” As a thought hit her, she added with a hint of panic, “I hope he’s not allergic.”

  Christian put his arm around Bella. “Will you be okay for a sec while I pull Thinus out of the water before the asshole drowns?”

  “You stay with her,” Wayne said, “I’ll go.”

  “Wayne!” Sara held tight to his wrist. “Don’t do something stupid.”

  Unlocking her fingers gently, he went around the jetty to access the sea from the beach. He waddled into the shallow water, boots and all, and pulled a bedraggled, coughing Thinus out by the collar of his shirt. He yanked Thinus to his feet and all but shoved him over the sand to where the small group was standing.

  “What happened here?” one of the bystanders said.

  Nelis tried to run again, but one of the men took his arm. “You’re not going anywhere until we’ve heard what you’ve done.”

  “Thinus insulted and attacked us,” Bella said. “If it wasn’t for bonehead there,” she nodded at Nelis, “we would’ve taken Thinus down ourselves.”

  With a push on Thinus’s back, Wayne brought him face to face with Bella. In the yellow cast from the light Sara could see his eyes and lips were already swollen. He coughed up more water, but at least he was breathing and not suffocating from an allergic reaction. She didn’t want to be responsible for murdering him.

  “Apologize to Bella,” Wayne said, his voice cold and hard.

  “I’m sorry,” Thinus said, shivering from the cold water.

  “Sorry for what?” Wayne said. “And you better be specific or I’ll punch it out of you.”

  “Sorry for … for … callin’ you a whore and telling you to suck me off?”

  “And for laying your filthy hands on her,” Wayne added.

  “Sorry,” Thinus said again.

  “Now, apologize to Sara.”

  “Sorry I pushed you.”

  Wayne didn’t take his eyes off Thinus. From the way the muscles worked in his jaw, it was clear he had a hard time controlling himself. “Anything you’d like to add, girls?”

  Bella pointed at the dirty money on the ground. “Pick it up.”

  Thinus groveled around, collecting the two bills.

  “Your turn,” Wayne said to Nelis.

  “We apologize,” Nelis said.

  “Wanna call the cops, Bella?” the man holding Nelis asked.

  Bella massaged her throat. “You know I can’t call the cops.”

  “Shall we rough them up, then?”

  “I think they’re roughed up well enough.” Bella looked at Sara. “What do you think?”

  “Enough for one night.”

  “This isn’t over,” Wayne said to Nelis, “not by a long shot, so you better watch your back. And you,” he put his face inches away from Thinus’s, “you can thank your stars a school of wasps had taken care of you, because if it had been me, you wouldn’t be walking home tonight. You’d be driving to the hospital in an ambulance. Stay away from the women or I’ll–”

  Christian caught his arm. “Don’t say it.”

  “Violent threats, West?” Nelis said, brave again now that he knew they weren’t going to beat him up.

  “Just get the hell out of my sight.”

  Nelis took Thinus’s arm and led him away. One by one, the group of spectators dispersed.

  “Need a drink?” Christian said, looking between Bella and Sara.

  Bella dusted her hands. “I want to go home.”

  Sara felt the same way.

  “Christian, you follow Bella home,” Wayne said. “I’ll go with Sara.”

  His eyes lingered on her with a questioning light and a hint of uncertainty she couldn’t stomach.

  Later, when she parked her Jeep in front of her cabin, Wayne cut the engine of his truck and came around to her passenger side. He got in and shut the door. For a while they stared at the road facing the river in the dark, neither of them saying anything.

  It was Wayne who broke the silence. “Tonight didn’t turn out as it should’ve.”

  “Do you think Bella’s okay?”

  He turned in his seat to face her. “It’s not the attack I’m talking about.”

  “I’m not sorry,” she said, anger heating her voice, “so don’t say something that’ll spoil it for me.”

  “I almost went too far, Sara. If the fight hadn’t stopped us…”

  She knew it was an impossible situation, but she didn’t want to hear it. Not now. For a little while longer she wanted to hold onto the memory of what had been and what could’ve been had Thinus not spoiled the night. Tomorrow, in the daylight, she’d face the truth again.

  He gripped her chin. “Listen to me, Sara—”

  “Don’t say it.” She closed her eyes to escape the regret she could see in his.

  “Look at me.”

  She lifted her eyelids slowly to stare into his sad, dark gaze.

  “Number one, I have no intention of taking your virginity because I’ll regret it. Number two, I’m going to destroy you if you lay a finger on my land. Number three, I’m a convicted murderer. Three very good reasons to stay away from me. Got that?”

  Those were damn valid reasons to run. What was she supposed to say to that? That her body wouldn’t listen?

  He let go of her, already setting her free. “Stay clear of the Therons. I don’t want to go back to jail, and if he hurts you, believe me, I’ll be convicted of another murder.”

  “I only defended myself.”

  “The sooner you leave this town, the better.”

  His words hurt, even if she understood.

  “I’ll meet you on Monday to trek into the forest. I suggest you prepare supplies for four days. I’ll take care of my own. Hopefully, by Friday you’ll be on your way home.”

  By Friday, whether she’d failed or convinced Wayne and Dumile to agree on the terms, Odier would implement the law the way he saw fit. Her boss wasn’t going to be patie
nt forever. If she failed, she’d never be sent on another mission.

  “Go inside,” he said. “Let me see you lock your door.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” She cupped his face and leaned in for a kiss.

  His eyes closed, and his body tensed. His chest stopped moving, as if he was holding his breath. When her lips brushed over his, his long, dark eyelashes fluttered. He sucked the air from her mouth as he inhaled sharply. In a second the control switched. His hands were on her shoulders, pulling her close. He squashed her against his chest, devouring her mouth with a hunger so urgent she both craved and feared the intensity. As suddenly as he’d taken over, he stopped, setting her aside with a firm movement.

  He traced her bottom lip with his thumb. “Sara…” He searched her gaze and looked away. It was clear he had something on his mind and didn’t know how to say it.

  “What is it?”

  He faced her again slowly. The light from the lamppost twisted shadows over his face, making him look dark and wary.

  “Snakes don’t hibernate in summer,” he started, “and wasps don’t attack at night.”

  She swallowed. “What are you saying?”

  He trailed his thumb down her jaw and along the curve of her neck. “Do you have something to tell me?”

  The urge to come clean was big, but she couldn’t do it without risking both herself and him. People like her were hunted and killed for their forbidden skills.

  “No,” she finally said, her voice a croak.

  He held her gaze for a second and then nodded. “Fine. I trust you.”

  She barely suppressed a wince. She hadn’t lied, but she hadn’t been truthful either. Soon, she’d be gone. It was better this way. The less he knew about that, the better for both of them.

  With a tender kiss on her forehead, he got out of the vehicle and came around to open her door. Neither of them said anything. The air was thick with everything that lay between them–the land, Thinus’s attack, their uncontrollable attraction, her secret, and his suspicion. She walked to her door as if on a pirate’s walking plank. Each step away from him was a step in a direction she didn’t want to take, but he didn’t call her back. He waited until the door shut behind her before he pulled off. She leaned against the wood until the sound of his truck was swallowed by the crickets and the surf, finally feeling the strain of the attack and the turbulent situation surrounding Wayne.

  In the kitchen, she took a bottle of water from the fridge. The cobra was coiled up in the warm drawer of the oven.

  “Hey, Kojak. It didn’t go as well as planned tonight. We didn’t even talk about the land.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  That was the problem. She wasn’t thinking around Wayne West.

  * * * *

  The following day, she got Bella’s number from the electronic telephone directory and called to ask if she could pay her a visit. In the afternoon, she went over with a bouquet of proteas and spurflowers. Bella opened the door in a bikini with a see-through tunic that reached all the way to her French manicured toenails.

  “How lovely. Thank you.” She took the flowers and showed Sara into a lounge fitted with red leather chairs and a chrome coffee table. Wall to wall windows overlooked the sea.

  “Wow.” Sara looked around. “Nice place.”

  “Diet Coke?”

  Obviously, Bella paid attention to detail. After fetching their drinks and a vase, Bella took the chair opposite Sara.

  “You didn’t have to,” Bella said, arranging the flowers in the vase, “but I love proteas.”

  “I wanted to see how you’re doing.”

  “Fine. I don’t crumble that easily. You?”

  “Okay.” She looked at her hands. “I’m not staying forever. When the job’s done, I’ll go home. You’ll still be here.”

  “I can take care of myself. Clive Theron isn’t the only person with money in this town. You better take care, too. After the chili stunt and last night’s wasps, Thinus is the laughing stock of town. He won’t just let it go.”

  “Wayne made me promise to stay away from Thinus, and that’s what I intend to do. Wasting my energy on fighting him is not helping me to get my job done.”

  “And West?”

  “He kind of asked me to stay away from him, too.”

  “Are you?”

  “He’s going to help me track the elephants. From Monday, we’ll spend four days together in the forest. He can’t avoid me in the forest. Surely, in four days I’ll succeed in making him listen.”

  “Or,” Bella grinned, “in four days you could lose your virginity.”

  She wiggled her shoulders. “Oh, no. This time, I’m going to be strong.”

  “West won’t part with that land willingly, no matter what.”

  “I have to try. I don’t want to leave here as his enemy.”

  “I hope for both your sakes you won’t have to.”

  They chatted for another few minutes about the attack and Clive’s hold on the town until the doorbell rang and a lady in a housekeeper’s uniform announced that another guest had arrived.

  “It was nice chatting to you,” Bella said, getting to her feet, “but I have to work. Call me when you come back from the forest. I’d love to hang out.”

  “That’s kind, but I may be packing and on my way, by then.”

  “At least don’t bail without saying goodbye.”

  A handsome man dressed in chinos and a blue shirt waited in the entrance. He gave Bella an appreciative once-over and Sara a curt nod.

  “Darling.” Bella kissed his cheek, but didn’t make introductions.

  The man regarded Sara’s legs. She suddenly felt too skimpily dressed in her cut-offs and tank top.

  “Is she for sale?” the man said to Bella.

  Bella laughed. “No, she’s not in the business. She’s a friend.”

  “Pity,” he said, giving Sara a warm smile.

  Sara left quickly, the earlier relaxed atmosphere suddenly awkward.

  * * * *

  When Wayne got a call from Clive to come to the house on Sunday, he knew it was the trouble he’d tried his damnedest to avoid. Clive saw few of his employees at the house and never on a Sunday.

  The trip up the mountain was tense. Six years ago, all of this was his. The green hill with the expanse of forest as far as the eye could see, the cliff overlooking the river, and the grassland where the game meandered, all of it belonged to his grandfather, his father, and him—until one night. Until… He couldn’t stomach it, couldn’t think about what had happened. He still didn’t understand, but it didn’t matter. He was guilty. He’d been drunk and he’d driven that truck. If he’d been sober… No matter the ‘ifs’. It couldn’t be undone.

  He didn’t want to remember, but the familiar dark color of the rich soil and the green grass where the buck grazed brought it all back, branding the memories with a red-hot iron on his soul, burning and hissing and festering with a pain that wouldn’t let him go. They’d parted on a fight. They’d always been fighting, but things were especially heated that night. She’d accused him of being a racist, and he’d screamed she was just the same. He’d left her at the cabin to drink away his anger and frustration at the party by the lake. Halfway through his fourth or fifth drink—he couldn’t remember—he wanted to go home and apologize. How was he supposed to know she’d come looking for him? How the hell was he supposed to know? God, please. He couldn’t. He couldn’t bear it. He bashed his head against the wheel, stamping out the sequence of flashes that played in his mind. He felt sick. He jerked the wheel to the left and brought the truck to a standstill on the narrow shoulder. Yanking the door open, he half-fell out of the vehicle. He stumbled to the fence and retched, emptying his stomach on the soil. Dry heaves folded him double until only bile burned in his throat.

  It took him a long time to get a grip on himself. Breathing through his mouth, he wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. His stomach felt better, but h
is mind worse. His mind would never heal from the horror his eyes had witnessed. Forcing the image from his brain, he got back into the truck and followed the road up the hill.

  The grass was tall in the spare camp. Clive had done well. He was rotating the land, avoiding erosion. It was surprising how the farm, on the brink of destruction when he’d been in jail, had suddenly started to flourish again the minute he’d signed the deed over to Clive. He gritted his teeth. The trees here were dense, not wiped out like on the border of the forest. Clive didn’t believe in shitting in his own backyard. One day, he was going to find the proof he needed, the proof that Clive was behind the smuggling.

  A herd of Kudu lifted their heads and twitched their ears at the sound of his truck. He pulled onto the side of the dirt road and rolled down his window. The buck didn’t flee. They were used to the vehicles. Their heads stood proud, their necks stately. Their hides had a healthy shine. Same for the Gemsbok and Springbok. The cows had birthed well—there were several calves. Always a sign of a good season. The animals knew. Their instinct never failed them. On the odd spring when there were few babies, you could bet your money it would be a dry summer with little rain. Farther up in the mountain, the lions prowled. From time to time, they’d snatch a buck or a baby, never more than they needed. Humans could learn much from animals.

  When these magnificent animals were his, he’d kept a good eye on the balance. Too little buck, and the lion couldn’t feed. Too many and the grasslands were wiped out. Now, he swept a worried gaze over the hilly part where the gazelle wandered. They were multiplying too fast. The herd was vast, too vast for the land. He’d have to mention it to Clive, tell him to heed caution. The game farms up in Grahamstown were looking at buying. They’d take a few bulls off his hands.

  With a longing that cut deeper than the tracks of his truck in the mud, he continued to the crest where the new, big ranch house stood. He got out and took a moment to gather his wits. The house grated on his nerves. It was the best spot with a view over the forest at the back and the sea in the front. It was where he was going to build a house for Mariana, a big house for a big family. One day, he’d said. One day, when he had enough money. He’d never given her any of what he’d promised–no big house and no ring.