The sounds snapped me out of the darkness, enough that I stumbled back, breathing hard as I struggled to pull the magic to me once more.
What had I done? Had I really just enjoyed killing someone? I should’ve captured him. Interrogated him. Asked what Stefan’s game was. Now, as the mist cleared, and my magic receded, laughter rolled through me.
His death was deserved. You should enjoy it.
I stood there shaking like a leaf in a windstorm. The mist was gone and we were alone again. Stefan’s men had run from me, rightfully so, and I had nothing but a dead man to show for it. What had I done? The question repeated over and over in my mind.
I knew I shouldn’t have given in. I was a monster, no better than the things that crawled out of the Veil. No better than Madeline and her thirst for blood. Maybe this was what elemental half-breeds were. Hungry for death, always fighting a magic that wanted their souls . . .
You won. You saved everyone, my magic whispered. You are the hero now. They will love you even more.
“Not at the expense of my humanity,” I whispered back as I wobbled my way to the man I’d killed. He’d deserved death for attacking us, but not torture. And that was what I’d done. I’d made his death horrific.
Oka was at my side, once more in her smaller form. She leapt up to my shoulder and I lost my balance under even her tiny weight. The magic had again taken more of me with it, not just my sense of right and wrong while it rode me, but my energy too.
I lifted a hand to her as I felt her turn to leap off. “No, stay, please.”
She butted her head against mine and a flow of energy came from her, soothing some of the bruises on my body.
Richard rounded everyone up and got them moving away from the site. I caught his eye and gave him a nod. They could go ahead. I knew it was clear; we’d catch up.
Mac limped toward me, holding his right arm close. The bone of his upper arm was visible under his clutched hand. His pain reverberated through me still. “You need to get that looked at,” I said. I wanted to push him toward our nurse, Nathanda. She’d patch him up in no time. Assuming she’d not been killed in the fight. My gut clenched at the thought of those who’d died. Even as I thought it, bodies were lifted off to the back of the final truck beside the Humvee. Seven, eight, nine, ten. Ten deaths.
I frowned. “They could have killed more.”
“They weren’t only interested in our lives,” Oka said. “But what we have to offer.”
Mac didn’t turn away. “Let’s see what we have here, then I’ll find Nathanda.”
He tipped his head toward the man I’d killed.
I bent down, thinking maybe we could use his weapons. Maybe he’d have a map on him? Something useful, anything useful. I lifted his arm away to get to his belt holster, and his sleeve slid up, showing his forearm. My mouth went dry. It was the same symbol as before. A symbol I’d thought would only be on Madeline’s supernaturals.
A circle, a line, and an open circle with three dots on the outside. The same exact symbol I’d seen on Madeline and all the other bizarre creatures Oka and I had stumbled on in the past few months.
Questions swirled in my mind, and the only certainty I felt was the cold chill that passed through me. This shit storm with Stefan and whoever he was obviously tied to . . . it was only just starting.
7
The weapons on the dead man were few, but I took them anyway. A handgun with an extra clip, two knives and a second handgun of a different size that was empty. I didn’t know enough about guns to know anything more than that one was black and compact, the other silver and not so compact.
Mac slumped, and I dropped the weapons to grab him around the waist. We both wobbled, and I struggled to keep him on his feet. “We need to get him back to the caravan,” I said. “Oka, go get—” Help, I was going to ask for help, but Alex beat me to it.
He stepped beside us and slid an arm around Mac’s waist, then took Mac’s good arm and slung it over his shoulder.
“Easy, wolf,” Mac said through a grimace, his face paling rapidly.
Alex half smiled, half grimaced. “No way to be gentle about this, bear. It’s going to hurt no matter how we move you.”
I hurried to Mac’s other side. “I’m going to hold this arm up.” I put one arm around his back, pressing it against Alex’s, and used my other hand to pin his broken arm to his chest. He wobbled, and his head lolled forward.
“He’s a big guy all passed out. You could cut the carbs, big man.” Alex grunted as we worked to hold up the swaying Mac. His hand wrapped around my forearm, and I did the same to him, holding my bear together. Barely.
“Just start walking, smart ass,” I said. Alex grinned and laughed. He laughed after all that had just happened. But that was him. He could always find a reason to crack a joke, a reason to try to make someone smile.
We started out after the caravan, half lifting, half dragging Mac. It didn’t take long for the sweat to roll off me in droplets, even with the cool of the night. Oka leapt off at some point and trotted ahead of us, her tail in the air as if she were leading a parade.
“Where did you find her?” Alex nodded at the peachy orange cat.
“In a lava field,” I said.
“No shit?” He shook his head.
“Hairless, and nearly burnt to a crisp, but she was mine right from the start,” I said. Oka turned and wrinkled her nose up at me, her version of an air kiss.
“I’m glad you had her at least, that you weren’t alone,” he said.
“No more talking,” I said. My legs and arms were burning from holding Mac up. He still was barely getting his feet under him.
The caravan had put good distance between the fight and our people. While on one hand it was good, they reacted well when they had to haul ass, it was fucking frustrating that we had so far to go with one of our own injured.
Crimson and what was left of the shifters brought up the rear. She saw us struggling and jogged back to help with Mac.
She took over my side, and Alex’s hand slid from my arm.
Crimson shook her head. “Does he have steel in his bones? Jesus, he’s heavy!”
“Bear, I’m a bear,” Mac mumbled.
With me holding his arm up, and Crimson and Alex mostly carrying him, we made our way to the caravan.
“Four of our shifters fell, three injured, four if you include Mac,” Crimson said quietly. I looked at her. Her eyes met mine for a flash before they turned down. “I could not save them. And those injured, they are not healing as they should.” Like Mac wasn’t.
I wanted to reach out for her, but it was all I could do to keep moving backward, Mac’s arm held tightly. Even so, he grimaced as I stumbled, and my hand holding his arm wiggled.
“Why are they not healing?” I asked instead.
“The guns,” Crimson said. “There is something in the bullets that is hurting us as if we were human.”
I swallowed hard. Because we needed another obstacle added to our journey.
“Crimson. We did our best. Our losses could have been heavier.” Eight, eight dead but I knew it could have been worse. Far worse.
“They are heavy enough,” she said, her voice hard.
She slid away from Mac and I scrambled to get back to him, holding him up with Alex once more. Crimson turned from me, her eyes sliding into feline territory. She spoke over her shoulder as she motioned to some of the other shifters. “We will bury our dead and catch up to you.” Just like that, four bodies were removed from the back of the truck and the shifters slid into the forest like ghosts.
I thought I saw Jasmine go with them. Which was odd.
“The shifters are like a family,” Alex grunted out as we walked. “Death of one of them hurts like losing a sibling.”
“I know,” I said. “I feel it too.”
Alex looked across at me. “I don’t think she believes it. Be careful, Pam.”
“Noted,” I said, not entirely sure what I was supposed to do abou
t it. Everyone handled their grief differently. When I thought I’d lost Oka, I could hardly breathe, let alone bury her and leave her behind. Never in my life could I have brought myself to do it. But that was different even than just losing Oka. I’d still had hope she was in the stone, that she could be brought back.
On the other hand, Crimson’s pack members had been shot down in cold blood. She needed time to deal with the loss. That much I could give her. I didn’t think Stefan and his crew would be back that night.
Alex was silent, and Mac still bobbled in and out of consciousness as we walked along, weaving our way through the caravan as we looked for the nurse.
I kept glancing at the two men next to me, unable to help comparing them. I was struck by how very different they were. Alex was dark with long dark hair that brushed his shoulders, and golden eyes. He’d gotten bigger the last three years, muscles bulking up, but not big like Mac. And Alex . . . he was harder than he had been, but his goofy side came through here and there, like bursts of sun through the clouds.
Mac was his polar opposite, no pun intended. Almost. Blond hair, blue eyes, and big like the bear he was, his strength was far more developed. And he was older, more mature than Alex, which helped me balance myself and the fears I had. He loved me deeply and wasn’t afraid to show it. He knew I wasn’t a child and respected me accordingly.
My real problem was both were good men. Maybe the two best men I’d ever known. And the way Stefan’s Breakers had come at us, I knew just how hard that was to come by.
Oka’s tail twitched ahead of me and she glanced back, little eyebrows raised. No doubt she was picking up on my thoughts. And the men they involved.
Before I could get much farther with my list of comparisons, we spotted Nathanda near the front of the caravan.
“Thank god,” Mac grumbled, “I’m sick of getting bumped around by you two.”
“Walk yourself next time, bear,” Alex said, but he didn’t let go.
I smiled up at Mac, nudging him a little, grateful his sense of humor was still intact. Even if his arm was a bloody mess.
“Richard, stop!” I yelled. I couldn’t go any more carrying Mac. The leader of the caravan was up near the front, walking next to the Humvee. He twisted around, squinting into the darkness.
“Hold!” he boomed, and the group stopped quickly, easily.
“Medic!” Alex called out.
That got everyone’s attention. In moments there were hands reaching out, helping us with Mac, getting him laid out on a fresh sheet. His face went from white to green and he was breathing like he was going to hurl. I crouched beside him.
Carefully, I scooped up his uninjured arm and laced my fingers with his. Oka slipped up and settled herself on Mac’s chest. He opened one eye. “Get off me, cat.”
“Make me,” she countered. “You need us right now.”
Nathanda went to her knees beside his injured arm. “The bone is shattered. I can stitch him up, but if he doesn’t heal on his own, this will end up being bad.”
“Tell us how you really feel,” Mac muttered.
I ignored him for a moment. “Stitch him up, Oka and I will help him with the rest.”
Nathanda nodded and quickly went to work, cleaning the wound first. “Some of their rounds exploded as they hit,” she said as she pulled the first stitch through. “They meant to maim as much as they could, I think.”
“To put fear into us,” Alex said. “They want us scared. But why?”
His question was a good one, and one that I had no answer for. At least not yet. Because while Stefan and his crew had backed off, I had no doubt they’d be back. Just like Madeline and her creatures.
Nathanda worked fast under the light of the headlamp she wore, her hands moving with the ease of someone who knew what she was doing. Even so, the fatigue in her face was clear. “There,” she clipped off the last stitch and handed me a roll of gauze. “Wrap him up, I’ve got others I need to check on.”
I took the wrap. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” She was gone before the last word left her mouth.
I moved to Mac’s bad side and instead of the gauze I put my hands right over the freshly stitched wound.
“You sure that’s a good idea? Touching what was an open wound only a moment ago?” Alex asked.
“Hush,” I shot over my shoulder. I focused on giving Mac my energy and felt Oka do the same.
My head slowly lowered until I pressed my forehead to his. The wound beneath my fingers tingled and the skin tightened. But I didn’t ease off on giving him my energy. It was the bone that had to heal. Mac groaned.
“Enough, Pam.”
“No, it has to heal.” I bit out the words and glanced to where Oka lay on his belly. Her tiny paws were flexed, the tips of her claws digging through his shirt. Her eyes were at half-mast.
“Pamela is right,” she said. “You’re rarely any good to us when you aren’t injured; you’ll be completely useless as a cripple.”
Alex barked out a laugh and a smile tripped across Mac’s face. “Sassy cat.”
“Always.” She bobbed her head. “It’s my job to keep your ego in check.”
The energy spiked between the three of us, and for just a moment, there was no one else. Just me, Oka, and Mac, and I knew that it was where I needed to be. Right here, with these two at my side. I slid my face down so that Mac and I were cheek to cheek, feeling his breath against my ear.
“I’m glad you aren’t dead,” I whispered.
“Me too,” he said with a soft chuckle. He raised his good hand and touched my face. “Me too.” It was much quieter this time, and I pulled back enough that I could see his face. His blue eyes bored into me, as if he could see my soul, and the darkness there, but didn’t so much as flinch. He loved me despite the ugly spots that were part of me.
I touched his face, mimicking him, not caring that Alex was right there. What had almost happened before the attack, it was leftover emotions from before. A girlhood crush that was never meant to be. I kissed Mac.
“I have to check on the others,” I said. “Oka can stay with you.”
“Lawdy, Jaysus, no,” he muttered. And I laughed at his sudden Southern accent. “I’ll be fine. Now, anyway.” We both looked at his wounded arm at the same time. The scar looked to be about three weeks old and healing well, even though it had only been minutes.
Oka sniffed, leapt off his chest and flounced away. “I’ll deal with you later, bear.”
He winked up at me. “I’m hiding behind you.” He let go of me and gave me a gentle push. “Go. You know where I’ll be. Flat on my back, staring at the stars.”
I kissed him lightly on the cheek before I stood, not really wanting to leave his side. He wouldn’t have left me if the situation had been reversed, I knew that without a doubt. But I was his charge. And this caravan was mine.
He must’ve felt my reluctance as he waved his hands at me in a shooing motion. “Really, go. You’re smothering me.” He winked at me, and it was just enough encouragement for me to go.
“I’m going to find Jasmine,” Alex said, his voice more monotone than I’d heard it since he’d found me. He turned and was gone, but I got a look at his face. He was hurt. Damn it. I didn’t want to hurt him, but Mac being wounded reminded me where my loyalties were. And where they would stay.
The moments before Stefan’s timely interruption flooded back to me as I walked through the disorganized camp. Everyone was doing their best, but we were short on tents, equipment, and food.
I took the time to stop and check on a few of the shifters who were injured. I wasn’t a healer anymore, but I could take a hand, and whisper words of encouragement.
This was part of the gig of caravan witch. Not just to fight and protect, but to heal and soothe. No healing here . . . or was there?
I’d not even thought to try to use my miniscule amount of a connection to spirit when Mac was downed. My reserves were low, but there would be no harm in trying
to help. No one would know if nothing worked.
I crouched next to a shifter. Lynx was his name. Yes, named after his animal.
His hazel eyes were filled with pain as I sat next to him. “Give me your hand, Lynx.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re a battle witch.”
That startled me. “Yes, true, but my job is to look after you all.”
He frowned but gave me his hand. Callused fingers, broken and dirty nails, but I held to him and closed my eyes. My jaw ticked as I worked to pull that little bit of my connection to spirit to me, and thread it through him.
The going was slow, and I was breathing hard only a few minutes into the process. In my mind’s eye, an image grew until I was staring at the elemental who’d bound spirit from me. He stood in front of a pool of water, a dead forest around him, the trees burnt and the ground chewed up as if by some dirt-eating monster. His clothes were clean, though, and surprise filtered across his face. At first.
“You,” he snarled, his brows dipping low.
I curled a lip at him, thinking about what Oka would say. “You.”
He spit at me and I yanked on spirit as hard as I could, pulling it through the crack in the bracelet like a thin piece of yarn.
“Oh, you devious little bitch, how did you—”
I snapped open my eyes, and used the tiny thread of spirit, weaving it through Lynx’s body. I patched up the bruises and cuts that I could, helped along the healing of his bones and pushed the shrapnel of the bullet out of his hip. He groaned when I did that, and I held tightly to him, ignoring my own fatigue as it rose in a wave through me.
“Hang on,” I whispered. How much time had passed? Healing had never taken me this long before or taken so much out of me. But this was worth it. This was something better than anything the darkness could give me.
You can only heal that which is alive. I can keep them alive. The black magic spoke so clearly that I looked to my side, half expecting someone to be standing there.
I pulled my hands from Lynx. He looked up at me, those hazel eyes wide as saucers. “Holy shit.”
I wobbled where I was. “How long?”
Caravan Witch (Questing Witch Book 2) Page 8