by Karen Ranney
Marcie. Help me. I think I’m dying.
Just in case I sent a thought to Marcie’s daughter, Antonia the wizardess.
“Austin,” I said, my tongue thick, my brain foggy. “Don’t do this.”
My anger had dissipated, leaving the Fearmeister in charge. Or maybe it wasn’t just fear. I was sad that Austin was doing this. I was too weak to fight him. He’d won.
I was having a hard time staying conscious. There was pain in both arms now, active pain as if something was gnawing at my flesh.
I didn’t want to die. Marcie. Mark. Someone.
I was sad for my mother, because if I survived this, I would never willingly be in a room with Austin again.
The image of my brother as a little boy came to me. He’d been about five at the time, with the most delightful smile hinting at mischief. One day he’d been riding his bicycle on the driveway. He’d kept badgering me to remove the training wheels for him. I was the older sister, after all. I was the one person he could go to who would hide his misdeeds from our parents.
When had he stopped being so charming? When had he stopped coming to me for anything – conversation, expiation, cooperation?
I was fading. The pain in my arms was less now, but the weakness made me feel like I was sinking through the table. My feet were blocks of ice and the sensation was traveling up my legs.
Someone, help me.
The least Austin could have done was to give me something to mask the sensation of dying.
Please. Someone. Please.
Chapter Nineteen
Witpire blood. Woo woo
A roar woke me. No, not a roar. A growl. A whole series of growls. I couldn't tell where they were coming from because they kept changing direction.
I tried to rise, but I was still tethered to the table. Plus, a ten ton elephant was sitting on my chest. His trunk was wrapped around my arms and I think my legs had fallen off.
All I could do was be a captive, blind audience to the noise. I turned my head wishing I could see what was happening. My brain furnished patterns from the sounds. A loud thump was a body hitting the wall. Another thump — did that mean the body was bouncing off the wall or did that mean another body had been thrown against the wall?
Had reinforcements arrived?
For the first time in I don’t know how long I was feeling a little optimistic. Please.
I could hear the floors squeak and air brush my cheek as someone moved close.
I heard another growl. This time I was certain it was Austin. He transformed to his wolf whenever he wanted, behavior that irritated my father no end. He was engaged in actively protecting the clan from discovery only to have his son — his only son — be an asshole about the whole thing.
Evidently Austin didn’t care about my father’s edicts right now. Neither did I. I would have transformed into my wolf, too, if I hadn’t been so weak. Maybe Austin had planned for that contingency, too, which was why I’d kept getting injections of something.
Another thump and a yowl. I was beginning to think that what I was hearing was a battle.
Somebody reassure me.
Nobody spoke, but I heard lots of grunting, a few groans, and one high pitched shriek.
Were they fighting among themselves? Or had someone arrived to rescue me? Please, let it be the latter. The former would only add complications to the situation.
Had Austin given his companion a command she couldn’t fulfill? Something like, let her bleed out? Or, let’s just leave her here for the flies and the bugs?
Suddenly I was overwhelmed by a sense of rightness. I was being bathed in an emotion that felt like a warm, nubby blanket. I was a child cuddled up in my mother’s arms, deeply loved, comforted, and filled with joy.
You aren’t going to die, Torrance.
I could hear the voice in my mind, but it seemed to come from outside of me as well. Could the others in the room hear it?
It's all right, Torrance. You're safe now.
Antonia? Are you here?
I was worried for the little girl. She shouldn’t be here. It wasn’t safe. Hell, it wasn’t safe for thirty-two year old Furries, let alone a five year old wizardess.
She smiled in my mind and it was such a real sensation that my lips wanted to curve in response.
I'm not there, but Mommy is. She gave a little laugh. Mommy isn’t happy. They aren't being very polite, Torrance. She may have to zap them.
I wasn’t feeling all that protective of Austin. Perhaps if he’d been zapped a few times in his misspent youth, I wouldn't be having to deal with the autocratic snob he’d become. A little zapping by a witpire would do him some good. And while Marcie was at it, if she could whip up a little potion or something to make me feel better, I’d really appreciate it.
The nausea immediately disappeared and the heaviness on my chest eased. I didn’t feel a hundred percent better, but it was a definite improvement.
Thank you, Antonia.
Seriously, the little girl was a miracle worker.
Someone was chanting. It sounded like something I’d heard in a Native American ceremony. A rain dance or a corn dance or something. I couldn’t understand the words, but they were repeated in a monotone female voice. Marcie’s voice. Was it a witch’s curse?
I heard a scream, but this time it was more masculine with a hint of outrage. Evidently, Marcie had zapped Austin.
Good for her.
Antonia, can you do anything about this blindfold?
Not right now.
I was left to wonder if that meant she couldn't manipulate objects from a distance or that she didn’t have permission to do so. Frankly, I thought Antonia could do just about anything she wanted to and probably would, in time.
Marcie was no slacker, either.
I heard something heavy hit the wall and then a crash like a metal tray filled with surgical instruments falling to the floor. I had an immediate image of a vivisection with me as the patient.
I hoped Marcie zapped my brother again.
I wished I could help her, but I was still tied to the table and as weak as a kitten.
It’s all right, Torrance. Mommy doesn’t need any help.
I’d never anticipated meeting anyone like Marcie, let alone her daughter. If I’d never participated in the lottery, however, I wouldn’t be here now. Strange, even given everything that’s happened, I didn’t regret that decision.
I tried, once more, to free myself and this time I was able to loosen the restraint on my left wrist enough that it gave me some hope. I pulled at it again, then again. I’m nothing if not stubborn. Just ask my family and you might check with Mark while you’re at it.
I was going to give it a superhuman effort and I did, enough that I felt something warm and hot gushing over my arm. I raised my hand to my face and pulled the blindfold free.
Austin hadn’t been content with just one. There was another blindfold underneath it and two cotton balls mashed into my eye sockets. I guess he really didn’t want me to find out what was going on. Too bad he didn’t factor in that I would recognize his voice.
I opened my eyes slowly, then closed them at the glare of the overhead light. It took a minute for my eyes to adjust after being blindfolded for so long. The first thing I noticed was that my arm was coated in blood and it was flowing way too fast. I bent my arm and held it close to my chest, hoping that it would be enough pressure to stop the bleeding.
A tall steel pole holding a bag of blood was at my left side. Nothing was on my right. Or at least nothing I could see.
I turned my head slightly, fighting back the dizziness.
Marcie was dressed in something that looked like black scrubs. Witpire Ninja. It turns out that I’d been pretty good at figuring out what the noises were. Austin was on the floor, half wolf and half human — either in the process of changing to a wolf or changing back — unconscious or too damn scared to move. A woman lay beside him in scrubs. She was being trussed up by Marcie in a way that made me g
rateful for her expertise. Just how many battles had Marcie fought? I didn’t know and I really didn’t care. I was just grateful she was fighting this one.
I closed my eyes against a surge of nausea coupled with a feeling that I was going to faint.
Where was Antonia when I needed her?
I never thought that I’d say this about my own brother, but I hated Austin right now. I hated his arrogance and his chauvinism and his misogynistic tendencies. I hated that he thought he could control my life or dictate who and what I became. I hated that I hadn’t been able to fight him on my own. I hated that my mother would be heartbroken when she finally understood that two of her children despised each other. I hated what Austin had done because it required that I tell our father. Hamish Boyd was a man of justice.
I had no idea what he would do to Austin.
And I hated that I cared.
“Are you all right?” Marcie asked, coming to my side.
I nodded or tried to, but ended up sending her a weak thought. I think so.
“Don’t move. If you move the wrong way you could bleed to death.”
Oh goody.
I blinked my eyes and she nodded back to me.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
The Fearmeister rose up and whined like a little girl. Not a little girl like Antonia, but someone who sounded like a five-year-old Torrance.
Don’t leave me. Come back. I’m afraid.
Big bad Pranic and I was outclassed by a five-year-old.
I fully expected Antonia to say something calming to me, but she was absent from my mind.
I turned my head very slowly. Was I allowed to move my head? I looked to my left, first. Were those bags of blood from Weres? Did they match my type? I closed my eyes and slowly – to prevent the return of nausea and dizziness – looked to my other side. He wasn’t saving what he was draining, however. There were no bags of blood here, only a large basin that looked damn full.
I couldn’t remember ever being as weak as I felt right now. I wondered if this was what dying felt like. Did people just fade away? Was it just easier to let nothingness sweep over you like the waves on a beach during high tide? I could close my eyes and surrender and it would be so easy.
“Stay with me.”
I blinked open my eyes to see Marcie leaning over me.
Witpire Ninja. She needed a superhero mantra. Some collection of words that could summon her quickly. Or a signal. Maybe I should have a decoder ring I could press when I needed her. It could also have a secret compartment where I could store poison, either for my enemies or myself.
Would I have been able to kill Austin?
“Thank you,” I said and I think I said the words aloud, but I wasn’t sure. “Thank you for coming.”
My grandmother would be proud of me. How polite I was so close to death.
There was a touch of blood on Marcie’s cheek and I tried to reach up and wipe it away. Two things were wrong with that effort. I didn’t have any energy and I was very close to fainting.
“Stay still,” she said.
Okay.
“Antonia," Marcie said, “Torrance is fine.”
I had a feeling that Marcie was speaking aloud for my benefit. Otherwise, she could just as easily communicate telepathically with her daughter.
I wasn't feeling all that swift. I hadn't yet convinced myself that I was going to live through this and, frankly, nothing Marcie had said so far reassured me, either.
I wanted to ask a few questions, but I wasn’t up to the effort. Maybe Marcie didn't need me to talk. Maybe I could just think something. That would make it a lot easier. If I could only think. Frankly, just breathing at the moment seemed almost beyond me.
"I know you're scared."
She was good. She could hear my thoughts before I even knew I had them.
I think I’d gone beyond fear a long time ago. The Fearmeister had metamorphosed into something truly terrifying. A gigantic creature that made the earth shake when it moved. Tommy Terror.
I wanted to ask Marcie if she could communicate with Mark. Could she bring him here? I wanted to see him one last time. To my surprise, she didn't counter that depressing thought with any bubbly enthusiasm. She didn’t try to convince me that I was fine like she’d told Antonia. That scared me more than anything else.
"Can you help me sit up?" I asked, each word taking too much effort. I wanted to meet Death in the face. I didn't want to meet my maker on a massage table.
"It's too dangerous, Torrance. You’ve lost too much blood.”
I thought about that for a moment. Nope, didn’t have a cute response.
"Who was the woman?” I really should save my energy, but I might not have much more time. I wanted to know who’d helped Austin kill me.
"I don't know. When they wake up I'll be sure and ask one of them."
Well, hell, if you had a friend, it was a damn good thing to have one who was a witpire.
I’m here, Torrance.
At first I thought it was Antonia, speaking in my mind. But, no, the feeling I was getting was warm and sensual and so heartfelt I nearly burst into tears. Instead, I drifted off to sleep. Or maybe I just faded for a while.
“She’s lost too much blood,” Marcie said. The words didn’t bother me as much as the concern in her voice.
I made the supreme effort to open my eyes and there Mark was standing at my side, wrapping a bandage around my arm. His hand was so hot and I welcomed the warmth.
“You are so beautiful,” I said.
Marcie smiled beside him.
“Are you willing?”
I hadn’t the slightest idea what Mark was asking me, but because he was the one asking, I said, “Of course.”
Another smile, this one from Mark.
“Yes, I am,” Marcie said. “It’s just that we’ve never done it before, Mark. It would be the second transfusion she got from me.”
“I could be her donor,” he said.
Marcie shook her head. “She needs something more magical. Or she’ll die.”
Witpire blood. Woo woo.
They both sounded so kind and caring. So devoted to me. I wanted to thank them, but I was afraid that I might cry if I tried.
I really didn’t want to die now, not when everything was copacetic. I enjoyed my job; I loved treating animals. I loved my Brood: Pepper, Dalton, and Cherry Pip. I loved my mother and Sandy and I was beginning to understand and respect my father.
I didn’t know what I would have become as a Pranic Furry if I’d been allowed to develop naturally, without Austin’s interference.
I didn’t know what would have happened between Mark and me, either, only that I wanted that mystery to be revealed. I knew, in a way I probably never would have had I not been so close to death, that I had the capacity for loving deeper and with more passion than I’d ever imagined. What I felt for him could grow to such depths and dimensions that it would color my whole existence.
At least it would have, if things had been different.
I wanted to tell him all of that, but I didn’t have the strength. All I could do was send him a thought of our last kiss, when I was smiling and feeling buoyant inside, when the day looked bright and the possibilities endless.
I closed my eyes, feeling myself sinking. There was a space between my brain and the top of my skull. Like being in an airplane and losing altitude suddenly. That’s exactly what it was like and I had a feeling I was going to crash any minute.
Damned if I didn’t.
Chapter Twenty
Right now she looked terrified
The next time I woke I greeted the moment by throwing up. Luckily, some brilliant soul had figured out what might happen and had placed bowls on either side of me.
I didn’t know if it was from losing all that blood or whatever Austin had given me to knock me out, but my body didn’t like it at all.
Well, hell. I was trying to impress my Prince. Not easy to do when he was helping me vomit. When
it was finally — blessedly — over, I dropped my head back on the table, closed my eyes, and willed myself to faint again.
Instead, I remained alert.
“You’re feeling better,” Mark said as he collected the bowls.
I slitted open one eye and looked at him. “Am I?”
“You’re strong enough to vomit. That’s a good sign, Torrance.”
I closed my eyes again. If he considered throwing up a good sign then what was a bad one? I didn’t even want to think about any activity south of the border right now. No, that would just be too humiliating.
Someone laughed.
That was hardly fair. There were two people in the room who could hear my thoughts, and neither one of them was making an effort to block them.
I opened my eyes to find that Marcie was lying on a table right beside me.
“It was all we had,” Mark said. “No massage table in sight.”
“You have a pillow,” I said to Marcie. “I don’t have a pillow.”
Yes, I know, I sounded petulant, but even that was a good sign. A little while ago I couldn’t even think and now I was acting childish.
Maybe my cognitive responses hadn’t improved that much after all, because it took me a minute to realize that Marcie and I were connected by tubes. I was getting a transfusion directly from a witpire.
“You’ve been talking to Antonia,” Marcie said. “She’s the only one who calls me a witpire.”
“A what?” Mark asked, looking from Marcie to me.
“A combination witch and vampire,” I said to Mark.
When he smiled something warmed inside me, something that had been frozen for hours.
I finally understood what he’d been asking, along with Marcie’s response.
“Hot damn,” I said. “Does this mean I’m a Double Pranic?”
“I don’t think anyone knows,” Mark said, coming and examining the tubing running between us.