“Shavone!” Ben scrambles to his feet and attempts to enter the circle only to be blown back as well.
The flames of the candles rise higher and higher, twirling together in a canopy over the three witches in the circle. The heat burns the majority of the mist away, and Shavone calms.
“We are peaceful. We are calm.” Shavone mumbles the incantation burned into my brain from that awful night.
“That’s it, little witch! Fight,” I yell over the roar of the flames and hissing mist.
As she speaks more clearly, the candle flames shoot as though they’re energized by blow torches. One, in particular, is high and thin, spinning in a vortex. It whips high and arcs over my witch. I howl in desperation as the flame inches its way toward Shavone.
My wolf, desperate to break through the barrier, claws at the dirt around the stones to dislodge the circle and get her out of there.
The mist is back, seeping from the stones. It creeps low against the ground, flowing around Shavone. When it touches her skin, she chokes on a wail and her extremities convulse. When it enters her ears, she thrashes, moans, and growls like a demon.
“It’s the fog that’s hurting her,” Ben LaFontaine states the obvious.
And the stupid witches continue on.
“Stop!” I shout at the young witches. They’re in some sort of trance and speaking gibberish I can’t understand. Neither of them seem to hear me.
As the flame descends, my beast rages, his nails bloody and broken digging at an impenetrable force field that extends into the earth.
“Fight, Shavone, fight!” I roar.
My wolf pants and growls, helplessly looking for a way in.
As the mist tortures her, the flame narrows to a tiny laser beam. It slices through the thick mist and, then, Shavone’s T-shirt and bra.
“No!” I shout.
The vortex of fire spins over her, blowing both cloth and bra aside. The laser finger slowly descends again.
“Snuff the candles!” Ben yells. He reaches for one. It bursts into a ball of fire. “Owwww.” He draws back his hand.
I kick at the candle responsible for the flame nearing Shavone again. As though candle and stone are bolted to the earth, neither move.
Shavone screams as the laser of fire scorches her chest.
“No!” I hurl myself over the candle, hoping to snuff the flame with my body.
I howl at the charring pain on my abdomen.
The little witch’s eyes blink open wide and her head tilts to look at me.
The scent of my burning fur singes my nostrils. Instead of snuffing out, the flame shoots in bursts, scorching me with each one. “Aaaargh,” I moan, but I won’t let it push me off. The flame can no longer reach Shavone and that’s all that matters. I lock eyes with her. “Keep fighting,” I groan.
Jaw clenched and teeth gnashing, her lips begin to move in earnest. Both mist and fire draw back immediately. And, sweet relief, the flame beneath me goes out.
“Use your power, Shavone! Kill all the fire,” Ben roars. “That’s it! Keep it up, kitten, it’s working,” Ben says. “To your left. Snuff the candle on your left!”
Lips continue to move, she turns her head to focus on the next candle. A minor stone inside the circle lifts up and slams into the jar with enough force to shatter the glass. The fire screams. I’ve never heard anything like it and wish to never hear it again. The stone rises high once more, but, defeated, the rest of the candles snuff themselves.
As the stone softly falls back to earth, Shavone pants. The Taylor and Valentine girls collapse to their knees, panting, too, like they’ve just completed a marathon.
“S.” The Valentine girl reaches for a finally calm Shavone.
The roar of the fire and hiss of the mist gone, it’s blissfully quiet. I roll off the candle onto my back on the grass and shift human.
I’m burnt and burnt badly.
My beast whines at the pain. I gulp great lungs full of oxygen, breathing as deep as I can to give the Lycan blood what it needs to heal my body. A burn this bad will take weeks to heal.
Shavone’s piercing scream brings me back to my knees.
With the flames out, the mist has returned, stronger and thicker. It completely covers the little witch and the two girls. All three gasp as the suffocating soup presses down on them.
And the candle I had been laying on re-ignites. The flame spins high and dips toward me. Shavone’s mouth opens with a roar.
“Elements of water, earth, air and fire,” she shouts over the hiss of the mist. “Guardians of the east, south, west and north, ancestors and spirits, one and all,” Shavone shrieks, “please hear my call. Your power align, against dark magick here combine.”
The candles all spring to life and flames shoot sideways into the mist.
From the corner of my eye, I see Valerie behind a tree — eyes closed, arms outstretched and mouth moving. What is she doing? Her fingers? They’re spiraling.
“Aargh.” I take a giant leap and tackle the bitch.
The mist dissipates almost instantly. At the same time, the candle flames retract to burn normally. The girls in the circle audibly gasp with relief.
“Thank you all and one,” Shavone whispers exhausted. “It harm none, this spell is done.”
“With the power of three, so mote it be,” all three witches murmur.
The candles go out. I scramble to Shavone. She’s filthy and burned on her chest, but she’s conscious.
Ben lifts her hand.
“Don’t touch her!”
“I’m checking her pulse!” He snarls back.
My wolf perks his hearing to listen to her breathing and heart. “Her pulse is fine.” I slap his hand off of her.
Rolling his eyes, Ben leaps to his feet and jogs into the house.
Cherie wipes tears from her own eyes and pulls Shavone’s T-shirt up over her breasts. All three witches are covered in soot and sweat, their skin red from the heat.
Ben returns with bottled water. He hands one to Cherie and one to Lauralynn. He kneels with the third in his hand.
“Here, kitten. You need this.”
“Don’t call her that.” I take the bottle from him and lift her head to help her drink.
The sister watches us while holding her left shoulder. I hope I broke it. She and Shavone’s eyes meet with some unspoken communication. Shavone frowns. Appearing contrite and caring, Valerie nears the circle.
“Come any closer, and I’ll kill you.” My beast bares his fangs at her.
chapter 10
It’s my turn to sit in the side chair and watch Enrique in bed. Only he’s not sleeping. Laying on his side, his wide-open eyes never leave mine. Broad swaths of white gauze ring his burned torso.
There’s a light knock at his bedroom door.
Enrique moves his head indicating I should answer it. I uncurl my legs and pad over to it, cracking it a bit.
“Hey,” Cherie whispers. Gabs and Lauralynn are with her.
I step out into the hall and quietly close the door behind me.
“How’s he doing?” Lauralynn asks.
I shrug. If I try to talk, I’ll start crying again.
“Oh, S.” Lauralynn hugs me. “Don’t worry. He’s a wolf. They’re harder to kill than weeds.”
“Hey, now.” Gabs playfully pokes her in the side and smiles at me. “Ells is right, you know.”
I pull out of Lauralynn’s arms with a small smile. “I know. The Lycan physician said it looks worse than it is.”
“Any lingering dark on you?” Cherie creases her brow.
“No. The cloud I was under since the kidnapping lifted in the circle. I feel more clear-headed than ever.”
“Excellent. That means the light won.” Lauralynn nods.
“Yeah.” I close my eyes, dreading what I’m about to say. “The dark was coming from Val.”
My girls’ jaws drop.
“No way.” Cherie shakes her head. “She’s a real Gentil. It can’t —”
“Cherie!” Gabs looks aghast.
“I didn’t mean.” Cherie frowns. “I mean biologically — ”
“I know what you meant. It’s okay, C.” I wave it off. “It’s hard for me to believe it, too. But there’s no doubt it was emanating from her.”
“Wow.” Lauralynn shakes her head in disbelief. “She burned you?”
“No. That wasn’t the dark.”
I touch the spot on my chest where the beginning of a dime-sized spiral, the tight center of it, has been seared onto my skin. Though the spiral wasn’t completed, it is still warming and grounding — just like the necklace was.
“The light was marking you,” Cherie says.
I nod.
“Ladies.” With a bottle of aspirin and carafe of water, Agustin breezes past us to Enrique’s door.
“We should go — let you tend to your wolf,” Lauralynn smirks.
My wolf. I’m liking that phrase more and more.
She bunches her wet hair into a side pony. She and Cherie used the guest bath to shower and change into borrowed clothes of mine.
“Okay, but stay together. Just in case there’s any lingering dark on you or Cherie.”
“They’ll be with me at Grandmother’s,” Gabs says. “If you need us, just call.”
“I don’t think she will.” Lauralynn shakes her head. She hugs me, again, and whispers in my ear. “A guy who’s willing to burn himself alive for you is a keeper.” She pulls back. “Your instincts are right on.” She searches my eyes. “They always have been.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“I do.” Lauralynn smiles as she follows Gabs and Cherie down the stairs.
“Être sûr,” Cherie and Lauralynn murmur.
“Être sûr.” I turn the door handle.
Inside the bedroom, Enrique pops two aspirin in his mouth. “Thank you, uncle.” He hands the glass back to Agustin.
“Get some rest.” Agustin places the glass and carafe on the side table. “Both of you.” With a small smile for me as he passes, he slips out and closes the door.
In my bare feet, I walk to the bed. “Do you need anything?” I pull the duvet up over his legs — masculine, muscular legs.
“Yes. You.”
“You heard the doctor. You’re supposed to rest.”
“Come rest with me.” He throws the duvet open, exposing those corded legs and muscled pecks. His ample cock pushes at his briefs.
Geez, he’s a gorgeous man.
“Enrique your burns.” Rolling my lips inward, I consciously keep my tongue from licking my lips.
“You can soothe them.” He scoots back to make room and opens his arms in invitation.
I consider it. Aside from the physical draw, I recall how comforting he was when I needed it.
“Please,” he murmurs. “I won’t get any rest unless I know you’re okay. The only way to do that is to allow my wolf to monitor your breathing while I sleep.”
That’s the best line I’ve ever heard.
The wolf rises in his eyes and I realize it’s not a line. He’s serious.
“Okay.” I take off my jeans and, careful not to touch his bandages, gingerly get in facing him.
Smoothing back my hair, he wraps his arms around me. Oh, he feels so good — like someplace I’ve always belonged and never knew it. Home. He feels like home.
He pulls me in closer. I snuggle into his shoulder, letting the comfort wash over me. It feels wonderful, yes, but this has got to be hurting him.
I reluctantly ease off his torso.
Instantly, he pulls back. “I’m sorry.” His gaze drops to the small bandage on my own chest, and his teeth grind in a snarl. “Your pain is my fault,” he whispers with a catch in his breath. “I put you in that fucking circle.”
“It doesn’t hurt.”
“Are you sure?” He kisses my forehead, threads one of his strong legs over mine.
“Positive. The circle was cleansing. You did the right thing. It was exactly what I needed.”
He grunts. “It didn’t look like it.”
“I know.” I gently lay my palm on his cheek. He instantly leans into it. “But you shouldn’t have interfered with the magick. You definitely shouldn’t have laid on that candle.” The sight of the flames shooting up around him is one I will never, never forget. I try to blink away the moisture in my eyes.
“I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t get to you. For the second time in my life, I couldn’t” — He swallows hard and crushes me to him.
Again, I try to ease off the bandaged part of him.
“You don’t want me too close? Am I too tempting?” He teases.
“Yes.” I playfully smack him. “Your burns, Enrique. The pressure has to hurt.”
He smirks. “Holding you is the best medicine in the world. Let’s try it this way.” He rolls onto his back and tucks me into his side. “Ah, perfect.”
It must be, because in just seconds, his arms relax and so does his breathing. I close my eyes, too.
After a while, I hear voices. They’re speaking Spanish. Native wolves talking about securing the parameter around the creek. They get closer, footsteps crunch the gravel and twigs next to the wolf and me.
The weight of my wolf lessens on me. They’re trying to take him. “No.” I grip his fur with my fists, and hold tight with my legs.
“Let go, little witch. He’s badly hurt. We have to help him,” says a soothing woman’s voice.
I look into my wolf’s dark eyes. He blinks a yes, his exhausted eyelids drooping. After a few seconds, I relent and let go, allowing them to lift him off me. He whines in pain.
“Enrique!” Another woman, a Native female, runs and kneels by him on the ground. His mom?
“Get the little witch,” says a voice. I know that voice. It’s Agustin.
“Come.” The woman with the soothing voice lifts me up. I recognize her. It’s Maria Santana.
“No. Don’t take me away.”
“Shh. We won’t hurt you. You’re safe now.” She reassuringly rubs my back as she carries me to the road.
“No. I can’t leave my wolf!” I cry. His eyes barely open, he looks at me and whimpers. “I have to stay with him. Please!” I try to push out of her arms with what little strength I have left. But she’s a strong adult wolf. I can’t get away.
“For your safety and those of your sisters, you have to go right now. Don’t worry, Shavone, we’ll take care of him.” She shoves me into the backseat of a car and slams the door.
“No. I can help him.” I bang my small fists on the window and pull the door handle. It’s locked. The engine starts and the driver pulls from the shoulder onto the road. “Wait! Stop! I can help my wolf! I can heal him!”
“He’ll be fine,” says the gravely male voice that I’ve heard before. “Lycan blood will heal him.” It’s Emmanuel.
All I can do is watch out of the back window and sob as I’m driven away. One of the grownup wolves rolls the dead hunter down the bank and into the muddy creek. The others gather around my young wolf lying lifeless on the ground.
Please don’t let him be dead. Please.
A man gathers my wolf in his arms and walks away with him. His mother follows, crying.
“But I can heal him,” I whisper.
I wake with a start.
On his side facing me, Enrique’s dark eyes stare into mine. “You were dreaming again.” He cups my cheek and wipes moisture off my cheek with his thumb.
I can heal him.
I sit up. “I can heal you,” I assert.
“What?” He creases his brow.
“Your burns. I think I can heal them.” I fling the duvet off. “You want me to practice my craft. Let me practice on you. Please.”
He shrugs. “Alright.” With a grimace as his abdomen bends, he sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed. “What do you need?”
Hand on a hip, I tilt my head at him. “My tools that are in my car that is parked at the Doll
house.”
“Let’s make do with what’s here, hmmm?” He purses his lips.
“Candles, green if you have them, and an aloe plant.” We put on our pants as I talk. “A lighter or matches, chamomile tea and a metal spoon to burn it in. And something of yours that I can charge — a piece of jewelry with a natural stone is best.”
“Done.” He walks to the tall dresser and produces a gold and onyx ring.
“Perfect.”
He takes my hand and leads me through his house. Together, we gather all the elements we need and are back in his bedroom within minutes.
I snip off three long fleshy leaves from the aloe and, in a bowl, grind them into a cream. Into a large stainless steel cooking spoon, I dump the contents of three chamomile tea bags.
“Strip.” I hurry and get undressed.
“Demanding little witch, aren’t you?” He eagerly takes off his pants and stands before me, smiling, in his briefs.
“All the way. Spells always perform better when you’re fully bared to the elements.”
He nods, taking off his underwear, all the while watching me unhook my bra and slip out of my panties.
“Now I know why I love magick so much.”
“Behave. This is serious.”
He attempts to wipe the adolescent smirk off his face, but it lingers. “What about my bandage?”
I grimace. “It’s best off. But if it hurts too much, we’ll leave it.” I remove the tiny one on my chest.
He raises his arms to give me access to it. “Take it off.”
As I lift the velcro edge and lean in to unwind the gauze around his back, my breasts graze his chest. His wolf gives me an appreciative hum.
“You be good, too,” I playfully scold him.
His gaze softens, but the fire of desire doesn’t leave his twinkling dark eyes.
The burns, while already on the mend thanks to his Lycan DNA, are still an angry red.
“Oh, Enrique.” I tear up.
“My sweet little witch. It’s okay.”
No, it’s not.
Folding the gauze in on itself to keep it clean, I carefully set it on the dresser. If I don’t have the ability to heal him, we’ll have to put it back on.
“What’s next?” Enrique’s eyes rake over my body while he tilts his head.
Soft Fate (Wolven Moon Book 2) Page 6