by Shona Husk
She released a shaky breath. “Then what?”
“Then it’s over.” He threw a pinch of dirt at the cord and it sailed right over the threshold. His heart lurched and snagged on his ribs. “If you don’t get that barrier up, we’re dead.” His words came out harsher than he’d expected. He really wanted to live.
“I’m trying. I’m not good at this. I can’t just tap in—”
Lachlan sealed her lips with a hard, urgent kiss.
And she responded. Her lips moved against his, learning the shape of his mouth with a hunger that surprised him. Their tongues touched, and a spark of something other than lust but equally as heady arced through his blood, sharper than fear and more potent than adrenaline. Shaman magic tasted like chili chocolate, sweet with a heat that could kill.
She pulled back. “What’d you do that for?” she shouted over the noise of the fire.
“Shamans use sex for power. Now build that sphere.” He ran his fingers along her jaw, leaving a grubby smudge.
Dayna was shaman, or part of her was. The sexual energy created by the kiss would give her a boost—hell, it had given him a lift—hopefully enough to hold the circle. He glanced away to the bloodied rope. He was willingly giving energy to a Brightwater to use, and he couldn’t entirely blame the blood loss or the approaching fire, because he wanted to kiss her again. The scent of sandalwood clung to her skin, filling his thoughts with things he’d like to have the time to do if a bushfire wasn’t rushing towards them. Still, there were worse ways to die than while kissing a pretty woman.
If his plan didn’t work, they would find out very soon how hot the magical fire burned.
Dayna’s lips tingled. Her whole body tingled as if she’d touched raw power for a heartbeat. The magical energy was on the tip of her tongue like a shot of strong liquor. He was watching her with a heat in his eyes that rivaled that of the bushfire. She pushed the noise of the fire out of her mind and focused on Lachlan.
The way his lips had felt, the touch of his fingers on her skin. The magic they had made was there, part of her and much easier to shape and channel than the pulse of the earth. With her blood singing, she slid power into the cord as the starting point, then from there she let it curve and climb to seal at the apex above and beneath them. The circle closed with a pop and she let out a sigh of relief that evaporated at the sight of the fire sweeping towards them. Red and orange and gold. Brilliant and mesmerizing and deadly. And drawing closer with every breath. The fire swallowed up the ground, gaining speed with each second. Beyond the wall of flames the world ceased to exist.
“It’s done. But I don’t know how well it will hold.” She moved closer to him and tried not to look at the flames racing across the property towards them. She’d never be able to hold the circle against the fury and heat. They were going to die.
Lachlan was going to be the last man she ever kissed and he wasn’t even a man, he was a were-lion. But the kiss hadn’t been bad. Surprising, yes. Hard, yes. Did she want to do it again?
Yes.
She made herself look at him and not the fire. The smattering of dark hair on his chest formed a narrow line that arrowed down. She jerked her gaze back up; he was still totally naked and completely unconcerned. She glanced again from the corner of her eye. He wasn’t bad-looking. Lean, muscled and ever so sure of himself. He was everything she avoided. He wasn’t safe. Damn, he wasn’t even human.
Around her the sphere shook as the heat preceding the bushfire slammed into the shield. She tried to push more magic into it but the kiss was used up and she couldn’t tap into the energy of the earth, it was too wild and upset. “I’m not going to be able to hold it up when the flames hit. I’m sorry.”
“We’re not going to die. I’m going to kiss you and you’re going to put everything into the circle.” He glanced at the blood on his leg. His features tightened for a second as if he were making an uncomfortable decision. “I can give you blood too, but you should know there’s a risk you could catch the virus that makes me a were.”
A virus, like a cold. She shrugged. “I’ve already touched it.”
When she’d run the cord through his blood and then laid it on the ground, his blood had been all over her hands. At the time, she hadn’t stopped to think. She’d been so angry at him and scared of the lion that she’d only been worried about binding him before he’d woken.
Lachlan paled a little. “Have you got any cuts on your hands?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“Do you feel okay?”
“I’m about to die, what do you think?” They were yelling just to be heard. She almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. He was worried about her catching a virus and they were about to be burned alive.
One corner of his lips lifted and he gave her a slight nod. “We can worry about it later.”
He lifted his hand and replaced it with hers, then placed his over the top. His skin was cool but the blood was hot and brimming with life. The shamanic pulse was part of him, as it was part of every living thing. He wasn’t just giving her sexual energy from a kiss, he was giving her the power over his life, and it wouldn’t be hard to take it all and leave him with nothing.
“Blood and sex, it’s all I got. Use it.” His features were cast in a garish orange light that flickered with every hot breath. The fire was so close she could see the many colors that made up each flame. But his eyes were serious. If they were to survive, he needed her magic and she needed his life force.
She nodded as her nerve faltered. She couldn’t do it. She’d never been good at magic. “What if I take too much?” And she killed him?
“Worry about it later. Hold the sphere.” He pushed her hand harder to his leg.
Dayna ignored the slick feel of his blood against her skin and concentrated on his pulse. His life became part of her and she pushed everything into the shield. It wasn’t enough; the heat was going to boil them before the flames got a chance to burn them. She had to block out the heat too. He knew. He leaned towards her so their lips brushed, and energy sizzled through her veins.
Lachlan’s fingers cupped her face. His tongue traced her lip, and she let the sensation build and flow. More power than she’d ever touched washed around her and through her and was channeled into the magic that would save their lives. She closed her eyes and fell into the kiss, drowning in the gentleness that had been lacking before. Opening to him in a way that was more intimate than anything she’d ever shared with anyone else. The magic of the kiss became a cold barrier against the heat and fire.
The virus in his blood lent its strength. The power of a lion in his prime ready to fight was in her hands. Wild and ferocious, it brushed against her but didn’t attack and try to invade. The virus didn’t become a part of her. Around her, the roar of the flames became the roar of the lion. She could do this. They could do this. They were going to live.
Lachlan’s grip on her tightened, and she knew he was watching the flames. She squeezed her eyes closed tighter. In her mind she could feel them approach the sphere. The raging fire engulfed them, spreading over the shield with an impossible heat and anger. Their magic held.
There was a clap of thunder, and then the world went silent as if it had ended.
Dayna cracked open her eyes as Lachlan ended the kiss with a last caress. He looked tired. The lines at the corners of his eyes were more pronounced.
“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” She touched his cheek. Had she taken too much? He was already weakened from the bullet, yet in her mind he seemed so strong.
He shook his head and moved his wounded leg from under her hand. She glimpsed how all right he was. The magic had affected him and apparently he hadn’t lost enough blood to reduce his reaction to her touch.
She glanced away, her cheeks flushing with a warmth that started deep in her belly. “That was…ah…some kiss.”
“Yeah.” Their gazes met. “I feel like I should get your number and call you in the morning.”
“You should.” Because she wanted to see what it would be like to kiss him without death breathing on them. She gave him a small smile that was returned for a heartbeat before his features hardened into a frown as his gaze travelled over what was left of their surroundings.
Her eyes skimmed over the dead grass within their circle and the charred ground beyond the narrow rope, to the remains of her house. The steel frame still stood, but it was warped and the cladding was gone, and the roof sheeting had buckled and collapsed. The insides were smoldering ashes. Thin wisps of smoke were all that remained of her life.
Dayna swallowed hard and turned away from the wreckage. Where her sister had lain there was nothing. Not even the trees stood. The earth had been scorched clear. She convulsed as a sob tore free.
Lachlan pulled her into his arms. “It’s going to be okay.”
He smoothed her hair, but she couldn’t stop. Fresh tears stung her eyes and spilled over his skin.
Magic had once again swept through and taken everything she loved and knew. She gasped and sucked in a breath laden with the acrid scent of smoke. The fire had swept through so fast the few trees that remained on the edges of the property were smoking like spent matches, trying to create the rolling dark cloud that usually accompanied a bushfire.
Everywhere she looked there was destruction.
Nature had exacted its revenge.
She had survived; she should be happy. Instead she was numb, like she’d been sucked dry of all life. She gasped and untangled herself from Lachlan. She’d used his life energy in the magic that had saved their lives. He needed medical help. She dug through the overnight bag that held all her belongings.
“I’ll ring emergency.”
“The fire’s gone. The magic is balanced,” he said softly. His eyes were still focused on the place where the spell had started as if he were finally sinking into shock and unable to do anything more than gaze at the cinders floating in the breeze.
“For you. You need to go to hospital.”
He blinked and turned to look at her as if confused. Then he stared at his leg. When she’d removed her hand he hadn’t replaced his over the wound. The flow was now more of a trickle, but in this case Dayna wasn’t sure that less blood was a good sign.
“Lachlan?” She placed her hand over the wound.
He lifted his gaze, his brows drawn down like he was concentrating.
“I can’t go to hospital. I have to ring Fendrake.” He held out a hand coated in blood. It shook as if he were an old man.
“You need surgery.” She started dialing triple zero.
“No human doctors. Too risky.”
She stopped. Of course—what if he turned into a lion on the operating table? “What will Fendrake do to me?”
“Not a lot. You saved my life.”
“I shot you.”
“By accident.” His lips curved but the grin was tight and his skin was pale. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
“And the Council?” Would they still want her dead because of who her mother was?
“You’re not a full shaman, they should let you be.” He took the phone out of her hand. “Once I ring you’ve got fifteen to twenty minutes to get away from here. If you want to run, start now.” He spoke slowly, as if he had to be certain of each word.
He wasn’t going to be upright in five minutes, yet he was letting her go. For a moment she was tempted to flee. It was what she’d always done and what she knew how to do, but if she ran, they would come after her. She bit her lip. Could she live her life always looking over her shoulder and never knowing if Lachlan survived? Maybe if she and Clarissa had stayed and faced the Council as teenagers, Clarissa would still be alive.
Lachlan waited, his eyes dark with the pain that was wearing him down.
“I’ll stay.”
He dialed without offering her a chance to change her mind.
“Tracker Lachlan Garvey, 2577893. I’ve located the targets and require assistance.” He paused and cocked his head as if listening. “Human fire trucks are attending, ETA two minutes. That’s correct, at the epicenter.” He hung up and closed his eyes, the tension leaving his shoulders as he relaxed.
“There’s no fire trucks.”
“You’ll hear them in a bit. Don’t say anything. It’s easier to cover up incidents when less has been said.” He lay down on the dirt. “I need to rest for a moment.”
“No. Have a drink, talk to me.” She put the drink bottle next to his hand, but he didn’t take it. His skin was cold under her palm and his blood thick and sluggish as it seeped out of the wound. She couldn’t draw on any magic to help him and he had nothing left to give her.
“Can’t drink. Need surgery,” he said with his eyes closed.
He was going to go to sleep and not wake up. She had to keep him awake. “Tell me why you became a tracker.”
“To find things. People. I’d hoped to find others like me.”
Like him? He’d said there were other shape-shifters. Then she realized he meant European were-lion shifters. “Did you?”
“No. I’ve worked in the US, Europe and Australia. Nothing.”
“I’m sorry.” It was a lame thing to say to a man who’d spend his life looking for a place to belong.
“Don’t be. Bloodline died with my sisters. Were-ism’s maternal.” His words slurred as if he were at the tail end of a big night out.
Dayna pressed her lips together. Her sister was the last full-blood shaman of the Brightwater line. Lachlan and she were the dead branches of their family trees. Maybe they could start a new tree. She lifted her head at the sound of sirens, and a smile split her face.
“I can hear the fire engines.”
He didn’t respond, so she gave him a shake. “Lachlan, help is coming.”
His eyelids flickered. “I’m A-positive.”
“Don’t you dare leave me to face Fendrake alone.” What kind of creature would be coming?
“I’m not going anywhere.” His hand closed around hers in a weak grip.
He’d given her all of his energy so she could keep the circle up. Green sprouts of grass were pushing through the dirt around them as life began to take hold. Had she taken too much from him? He no longer looked like the fearsome lion she’d first faced, or the tracker determined to get free of her circle. He was just an injured man. The man she’d shot. The man she’d kissed.
“You’re not allowed to die, Lachlan.”
This time he didn’t wake.
Chapter Six
Lachlan stretched and turned off the TV. His brain was going numb watching the daytime chat shows. His leg ached, but it was healing. With luck, the doctor would let him shift so he could go for a wander around the hospital’s private garden. After two days—two conscious days in hospital—he was bored. He needed to find out what had happened to Dayna, even though he feared the answer. If she didn’t have enough shaman blood to protect her, he could’ve infected her and she could be dead. And if the Shamanic Council had decided there was too much Brightwater blood in her, she’d already be dead.
That no one was willing to answer his careful questions filled him with a certain amount of cool dread that he was busy refusing to face. It had taken a bullet to make him slow down and stay in one place long enough to realize he wanted to be with someone. He didn’t want to end up a grizzled old were-lion still hanging on to the glory days of his youth while getting laughed at behind his back. He wanted a partner, a lover and someone to come home to after finishing a job.
He wanted Dayna.
She’d consumed his thoughts since he’d woken up and for all the wrong reasons. He wasn’t thinking of the case, he was reliving the kiss that had saved their lives. What had started as a necessity had become something else. And he hadn’t been suckered in by shaman magic and impending death. He knew how a woman kissed when she was interested.
He glanced at the piece of paper on the bedside table. He’d woken up with a phone number scrawled up his arm a
nd had copied it out. It was hers. But he couldn’t make himself call. What if she didn’t answer? What if she did and she didn’t want to know him?
He sighed and turned away. Maybe when he was released he’d track her down. Find out if she was all right and see if she’d like to get a drink with him. Technically the job was still live, which made her a target, which meant even thinking about seeing her socially was breaking the rules that would draw the attention of Internal Review.
The door to his room opened. A man in a suit stood in the doorway. Agent Echen was back. Lachlan suppressed a sigh and tried to act interested. He didn’t have anything new to tell the Fendrake agent in charge of the cover-up. He’d already gone two rounds with the vampire answering everything, including the questions about what he could’ve done better. No doubt Internal Review was picking over his answers like vultures over a fresh corpse.
“You’re looking better, Garvey.”
Lachlan nodded. “Feeling it.”
“I’ve brought someone to see you.” Echen beckoned to the person in the corridor.
Lachlan sat up, wary. He had no family to come visiting. Aside from the nurses and doctors, Agent Echen had been his only visitor, and he was only there to ask questions and wrap up the case. Outside of work, Lachlan had nothing but a string of affairs with humans who would never be able to know who he really was or what he did for a job.
But Dayna wasn’t all human, and she already knew what he was. And she was the only person who could be coming to see him. His fingers curled against the bedsheet even though he knew it was wishful thinking and he’d probably used up his quota of miracles. But, it was Dayna or an Internal Review officer and he knew which one he’d rather be seeing. An Internal Review officer could make a Brightwater look like a peace-lovin’ hippie.